The wind howled as the iron-bound gates of the Academy of Elemental Arts creaked open before Ashen.
He stood at the base of the granite stairway, the towering structure looming above him like a monument carved from the mountain itself. The entire academy seemed to grow out of the rockface—its towers veined with glowing elemental crystal, its balconies perched like nests for giant birds of prey. Magical windcatchers spun lazily on the rooftops, drawing energy from the breeze, and the banners of the Five Elemental Halls danced in the updrafts.
Ashen paused, allowing the moment to settle over him.
He had returned to the kind of place he once ruled—a place of knowledge, power, and ambition. And yet it felt different now. Stripped of crowns and fanfare, he walked these stairs not as a king, but as a student.
His past was buried in another life.
This time, he would rise without a throne.
"Are you just going to stand there all majestic, or can we finally go in?" came a teasing voice behind him.
Ashen turned as Kaelin Mirewood stepped beside him, hands on her hips, hair tied into a loose bun that already looked like it was losing the battle. Her emerald cloak flared in the breeze, and her green eyes sparkled as she looked up at the academy with awe.
"I mean, look at this place," she said, practically vibrating. "It's like a floating castle made of crystals and wind and serious intimidation."
Ashen allowed himself a small smile. "It's not floating."
She smirked. "Don't ruin it."
Together, they climbed the wide stairway, joining the stream of other new students. There were dozens—maybe hundreds—of them. All sixteen. All recently awakened. Some walked with proud grins, others with nervous glances at the guards lining the gates.
Every student wore their cloak fastened with a clasp inlaid with a gemstone denoting their element. Kaelin's shone green and white. Ashen's, red and white.
He walked with his hands in his pockets, silent and calm, drawing more than a few curious glances. Something about him—his posture, his silence, his eyes—made people notice. He didn't act like someone who had just been given powers.
He acted like someone who had known them forever.
A loud voice snapped the crowd's attention.
"Form ranks!" boomed a woman's voice from atop a raised stone balcony.
A tall figure stood there in long robes of storm-silver and deep blue, her hair white as snow, gathered in a braid that fell to her waist. Her eyes—pale violet and sharp as blades—swept across the crowd like a hawk eyeing prey.
"Welcome to the Academy of Elemental Arts. I am High Arcana Elowen Veyne, Warden of Stormhall, Voice of the Prism, and First Magister of the Five."
Ashen stiffened at the name. Veyne.
He'd heard it before—in another life.
Arthur Veyne. The man who betrayed him. The man who claimed to want a perfect world.
Could this be his daughter? Granddaughter?
Elowen continued. "You stand upon sacred ground. This academy has stood for six hundred years, dedicated to the mastery of the elemental arts and the balance they bring. You will not simply wield power—you will become its guardian."
She raised her hand. Lightning snapped between her fingers with a deafening crack.
"Some of you will thrive. Others will break. But only those with discipline, skill, and willpower will earn the right to wear the sigils of the higher halls."
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Ashen remained silent.
"Step forward when your name is called. You will be placed into your elemental hall. Dorms are assigned by primary affinity. You will live, train, and compete with your house until the Choosing Trials at year's end."
Kaelin whispered to Ashen, "Sounds like a fun version of noble politics."
Ashen replied quietly, "It's exactly the same."
She frowned. "Wait, have you—"
"Storme, Ashen Revyn."
He stepped forward.
The crowd parted slightly.
Elowen's eyes narrowed as he approached.
Ashen met her gaze steadily, but said nothing.
Her voice was smooth and calculating. "Fire and Wind. A volatile combination. You'll go to Ember Hall."
She studied him a second longer. "Dismissed."
Ashen bowed slightly and stepped aside.
Next came Kaelin.
"Mirewood, Kaelin."
''Water," Elowen announced. "Frostpire Hall."
Kaelin made a face but didn't complain. She gave Ashen a quick nudge as she passed. "Try not to burn the place down without me."
Once the assignments were finished, the crowd began to disperse toward their respective halls.
The academy was divided into five main houses:
Ember Hall (Fire)
Gale Hall (Air/Nature)
Stoneheart Hall (Earth)
Frostspire Hall (Ice/Water)
Stormhall (Lightning and rare elements)
Each resided in a separate tower with its own training yard, dormitories, and elemental focus. Ashen made his way toward Ember Hall, a sprawling fortress of volcanic stone and red-glass windows that pulsed with inner heat. Magma channels ran beneath the floors, warming the corridors.
The moment he stepped inside, a voice called out.
"Hey. Fire boy."
Ashen turned.
A blond-haired boy leaned casually against a pillar, arms folded, a grin curled on his face. His cloak shimmered with a deep crimson, his clasp an emberstone.
"Talon Draeve," the boy said, pushing off the wall. "Top of my class back home. Fire elemental. Single-type, but powerful."
Ashen raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations?"
Talon circled him like a hawk sizing up a threat.
"You don't talk much, huh? That's fine. Just wanted to let you know I don't share top rank. So when sparring starts, don't get in my way."
Ashen smiled faintly. "If I do, try not to get hurt."
Talon's eyes narrowed. "You think you're funny?"
Ashen stepped past him without another word.
Behind him, Talon scowled, but said nothing more.
As Ashen reached the stairwell to the dormitories, he glanced out a tall window toward Gale Hall. Kaelin was already vanishing inside, her green cloak fluttering like a leaf in the wind.
He let out a slow breath.
This was a new world. A new war.
And it had only just begun.