The chamber was silent except for the flickering candlelight casting restless shadows across the cold stone walls. Outside, the evening wind howled faintly through the tall windows, carrying with it whispers of a world that seemed so far from this dim room.
I sat stiffly on the edge of the narrow bed, my hands clenched tightly in my lap. The heavy quiet pressed down on me like a weight I couldn't lift. Thoughts swirled, fragmented and confusing—memories that weren't mine, memories of a life spent among wires and engines, of logic and reason, not this strange world of nobles and magic.
The door creaked open slowly.
Footsteps echoed as a tall figure entered.
My father.
Baron Valeon.
---
He moved with the assured grace of a man who had never known doubt, his presence filling the room like the shadow of a mountain. His dark eyes locked onto me, sharp and unyielding, as if trying to pierce through the strange silence that separated us.
"You're awake," he said flatly, voice steady, betraying no emotion.
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat tightening.
"Yes," I answered, voice barely more than a whisper.
---
He walked toward me, each step deliberate.
"Ten years," he said, voice cold as the stone beneath my feet. "Ten years of waiting. Ten years of disappointment."
I met his gaze, searching for something—hope, anger, even hatred—but found only a hard, indifferent stare.
"No Affinity," he continued. "No spark. No sign that you were anything more than a wasted name."
A bitter truth settled in my chest.
"I am not who you think I am," I wanted to say. But the words caught in my throat.
---
He paced the length of the room, hands clasped behind his back.
"The Valeon name demands strength," he said quietly. "Power. Influence."
He stopped abruptly and looked down at me.
"You will go to the Imperial Arcane Academy."
The words landed with the force of a judge's gavel.
"The academy is no place for the weak or the unworthy," he said. "It is where the empire's finest train. Where those destined for greatness are forged."
I nodded slowly, still trying to grasp the weight of his words.
---
"You must understand," he said, lowering his voice, "this academy does not care for lineage or titles. It demands results. Excellence. Merit."
His eyes narrowed.
"You will be judged not for who your father is, but for what you can prove yourself to be."
A cold flame sparked inside me.
Was this a chance or a sentence?
---
He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"There is more to you than even you know."
I blinked, startled by the sudden softness.
"You carry a burden—a secret that I have kept from the world."
His gaze grew distant, haunted almost.
"But the world will not wait for you to discover it."
---
I wanted to ask. To understand.
But silence was all I could offer.
---
The Baron sighed, the stern mask cracking for the briefest moment.
"Prepare yourself," he said firmly. "Your journey begins at the academy. There, your fate will be decided."
He turned toward the door, pausing briefly.
"Remember this—failure is not an option. The empire watches."
With that, the door closed behind him, leaving me alone with shadows and questions.
---
I sat back, heart pounding.
The System flickered faintly beneath my skin.
Do you remember? it whispered.
Not yet.
---
The night deepened outside, but inside, a storm was already brewing.