The air in the Starfall Athenaeum within the Lyceum Arcana Academy felt thick with the scent of ancient parchments. Dust motes danced in the golden shafts of light that pierced the high, stained-glass windows of the roof.
Prince Aerion Veridian, the youngest son of the Emperor of the Veridian Dominion, sat before an old grimoire, a tome older than the Veridian Dominion itself.
A slight frown creased his brow, a lingering shadow from the harsh world beyond the academy walls. His fingers traced the lines of script within the grimoire.
Here, within the academy, the brutal politics of the Veridian court felt like a distant nightmare.
He hummed softly, a song his mother had taught him, as he meticulously copied intricate astral diagrams onto a fresh parchment.
His raven-black hair, a hallmark of the Veridian family, fell across his ocean-blue eyes. He wore only a simple, dark blue uniform tunic with silver trim.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps, shod in leather sandals, echoed through the hall.
Aerion turned, his humming ceasing. Someone stumbled through the oak door, gasping for breath.
It was Brother Felix, the normally stoic head scribe of the Lyceum. This time, his face was pale and sweaty, his eyes wide with a fear Aerion had never witnessed during his time here.
"Your Highness!" Felix cried, his voice almost a sob, as he braced his hands on Aerion's reading table. "Prince Aerion!"
A sense of unease crept into Aerion's chest. He placed his pen down, his hand trembling slightly. "Brother Felix, what is it? What has happened?"
Felix removed his hands from the table, swaying as he straightened up. Finally, he managed to speak, his voice a hoarse whisper. "The Dominion... The Capital... Crown Prince Therion..."
He drew a ragged breath, trying to compose himself to speak more clearly. "He... he seized the throne, Your Highness! By force, a coup! They say... the Emperor is dead!"
The words struck Aerion like a physical blow.
Father... dead?
The world spun in Aerion's vision. He gripped the edge of the oak reading table tightly, his knuckles turning white.
Therion staged a coup? But he is the Crown Prince himself?
The shocked faces of the other students and scholars blurred, replaced by the stern face of his father and the gentle smile of his mother.
Before Aerion could compose himself, Felix delivered the next grim news.
"And... worse, Your Highness! Scouts... guards, new reports have arrived! The Vaelgard Empire... they have crossed the Argen Peaks! They are heading here! They know... know the Dominion is in chaos."
Vaelgard. The sworn enemy of the Veridian Dominion, always waiting for a moment of weakness. And Therion, with his misguided ambition, had given them the opportunity to conquer Veridian.
Aerion opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He didn't know what to say. He was not a military commander; he was here to study, far from the political intrigue and bloodshed, precisely because he was not Therion.
A loud, shattering crack echoed from the courtyard below, followed by harsh shouts, not in the academic tongue of the Lyceum, but the coarse dialect of the eastern Vaelgard provinces.
Then came other sounds: the clang of steel piercing flesh and screams that abruptly ceased.
Felix's eyes, already wide, now bulged further. "Vaelgard forces!" he hissed in panic. "They are here, they will destroy this place, and kill us all."
Disbelief at what was happening gave way to panic. Aerion himself was not a prince who favored martial arts or swordsmanship. He preferred to study.
Vaelgard, by capturing a prince of Veridian, would gain a strategic advantage.
"Thaddeus!" Aerion croaked, turning towards the alcove where Professor Thaddeus Vaelen, his mentor, usually resided.
The old professor was already moving with a speed they had never seen before. His face was grimly furrowed, but his eyes remained sharp and calculating.
"Felix, go to the west stairs!" Thaddeus commanded in a low, urgent voice. "Ring the great bell there! My prince, please follow me. Now!"
More shouts echoed from below, growing closer. The loud clang of swords resounded from their location.
Felix scrambled into a narrow, winding hallway, heading towards the west stairs.
Thaddeus didn't wait longer, immediately pulling Aerion's arm with great force.
"The Founders' Path," he muttered hoarsely, pulling Aerion towards a blank section of wall behind the statue of Archmage Lyceus. Aerion was pulled along, stumbling, his robe tangling around his legs.
Once at a higher vantage point, he glanced back. Through a tall window overlooking the inner courtyard, he could see them.
Several figures in dark, unadorned leather armor, their faces hidden by masks. Their movements were deadly and efficient, effortlessly dispatching two Lyceum guards who tried to block their path.
Therion's men, not Vaelgard.
Aerion realized what was happening. His brother had sent these men. Not Vaelgard forces as he had initially suspected.
Thaddeus pressed a sequence of worn stones on the pedestal of the Archmage Lyceus statue. With a creaking sound, a section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow, dark passage that smelled of damp earth and cold stone.
"Go!" Thaddeus urged, pushing Aerion inside. "Down, always go down. Follow the blue moss. It will lead you to the forest."
Aerion immediately descended into the darkness of the secret passage, the cold air greeting him and making him shiver slightly. He turned, calling out, "Thaddeus, come!"
The old professor merely stood at the entrance to the secret passage. From behind them came the sound of overturning furniture and hurried footsteps.
"I have to slow them down, my boy," Thaddeus said calmly. He raised his hands, and the air around them vibrated with gathered power, his lips uttering a spell.
The last thing Aerion saw before the stone door slammed shut was the three figures he had seen earlier, bursting through the entrance, their swords gleaming in the torchlight of the corridor.
Thaddeus showed no sign of fear as they entered. He raised both hands, and the air around them vibrated with gathered power, and his lips uttered a spell.
The last thing Aerion saw before the stone door slammed shut with a loud thud was the figures lunging at Thaddeus.
But he heard nothing more, all sounds muffled, leaving only darkness and a terrifying silence.
"I'm alone now..."
Aerion's murmur echoed in the dark. He leaned his forehead against the rough stone, breathing heavily.
His father dead, his brother a usurper and a murderer. His kingdom under attack from a neighboring country. And his mentor...
A surging grief began to overwhelm him. He weakly punched the stone wall.
Why?
But a loud rumble from the entrance of the secret passage startled him back to awareness. They had found the mechanism and were opening it.
Aerion pushed himself off the wall and fumbled in his tunic pocket. His fingers found a smooth stone, a simple light-globe, commonly used by Lyceum students.
He whispered the activation word, and a soft, blue-white light emanated from the stone, illuminating the narrow passage. The walls were rough and slick with condensation.
And a short distance ahead, unmistakably on the downward path, patches of glowing blue moss dotted the floor.
Aerion immediately ran as fast as he could, stumbling. Several times his robe caught on protruding stones, or he slipped on wet rocks.
The passage twisted, branched, and narrowed. He kept following the blue moss.
Behind him, the rumbling sound of the stone door closing the secret passage echoed again. They had managed to open it.
Panic made him run faster. Aerion ignored the cuts on his hands from the cave walls, or his lungs that felt like they would burst.
The passage began to descend more steeply, and the air grew colder and damper. The sound of flowing water became louder.
Finally, the tunnel ended in a larger natural cave. An underground river, with black, rushing water, flowed through its center.
The blue moss he had been following led to a narrow ledge beside the water, ending at a rusted iron gate in the cave wall. Beyond the bars, Aerion could see moonlight on the moving water, the Enthem River, which flowed along the western border of the Lyceum.
Hope of escaping his pursuers resurfaced. Aerion rushed to the gate, gripping the heavy bars. Locked, of course. He pushed, pulled, even shook it.
But the door didn't budge. Despair began to assail him again.
Think, Aerion. Think.
He brought the light-globe closer to the gate's lock, seeing that the lock was old and large, perhaps even rusted inside.
But its mechanism was just a simple tumbler design.
His hand went into his pocket again and found a thin steel stylus he usually used for drawing diagrams. Not a lock-picking tool, but maybe...
Footsteps echoed loudly from the tunnel behind him.
With trembling hands, Aerion inserted the stylus into the lock, fumbling. His hands were slick with sweat and river water.
He wiggled, twisted, hoping to hear the smallest click.
Shouts began to echo from the tunnel's mouth; they had seen him, seen the light he held.
Click.
Aerion almost wept with relief, and immediately pushed the gate with his shoulder. The door creaked open just enough for him to slip through.
Again in his haste, he stumbled onto the muddy bank and immediately fell into the river. The cold from the snowmelt-fed spring river, made him gasp.
The strong current tried to pull him, but he struggled to stay upright against the flow, moving away from the gate. When he glanced back, he saw the figures had emerged from the gate, scanning the bank with torches.
One of them pointed at him, making Aerion crouch low, and then let the current carry him faster. He rounded a bend in the river, and the tall towers of the Lyceum now disappeared behind the trees.
He crawled to the opposite bank and fell into the mud and reeds, shivering violently. He was now soaked, cold, hunted, and completely alone.
He forced himself up, stood, and began to walk into the forest. Survive. That was all he had to do now.
He removed his heavy, wet uniform robe, and his boots, leaving him in his simple tunic and trousers. Then he hid them deep within the bushes.
Unconsciously, he gazed at the stars in the sky, a peaceful and beautiful sight that was ironically at odds with his current state and situation.
With breath misting and teeth chattering, Aerion walked away from the river, then disappeared into the dark forest.