The wind shifted as they passed the outer gates of Velmira.
Kaelen's cloak tugged at his shoulders like it wanted to hold him back. His hood was low, hiding most of his face, and the forged documents tucked in his satchel pressed against his ribs like a secret he wasn't sure he was ready to carry.
Selene walked beside him, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. She scanned every guard post, every tower window, every wandering Circle observer with a calm that came from years of practice.
The guards at the gate didn't question them. Just waved them through after glancing at the travel papers. Kaelen's name on them wasn't his real one. Neither was Selene's.
Auren Valen, scribe's apprentice.
Eris Marell, traveling scholar.
Fake names. But they fit like a second skin.
Still, the moment they passed under the iron arches and entered the capital proper, Kaelen felt something cold slide along his spine. Not fear. Not even danger.
Expectation.
The city of Velmira was alive.
Sprawling bridges connected upper terraces carved into the cliffs. Sigil lanterns hovered midair, glowing with faint blue runes. Magic pulsed through stone pathways, powering carriages without wheels. Steam hissed from arcane grates, and towers rose like spires of thought—twisting, glittering, unreachable.
Kaelen slowed as they entered the main plaza.
He'd never seen anything like this. The Vale had been quiet. Greystone had been dust. But this… this was a heartbeat made of stone and magic.
Selene nudged him. "Don't gawk. That's how you get pickpocketed."
He blinked. "Sorry."
She offered a faint smile. "You'll get used to it. Or you won't. Either way, stay close."
They moved quickly, winding through narrow lanes behind the trade district. Selene seemed to know exactly where to go—avoiding markets, keeping to alleys lit only by enchanted ivy or runes carved into door frames. They passed a weaver's shop with blinds drawn, and a butcher's with glyphs on every window.
Finally, they stopped outside an old apothecary that looked like it hadn't been open in years. The door creaked when Selene knocked twice, paused, then once more.
A voice answered from within. "Names?"
Selene replied calmly. "Eris and Auren. Southbound."
The door opened a crack, then fully.
Inside stood a woman in her thirties, her hair streaked with copper and her eyes far too alert to be a simple shopkeeper. She didn't smile.
"You're late," she said.
"We're cautious," Selene replied.
The woman looked Kaelen over. "He's the one?"
Kaelen shifted uncomfortably. "Depends on what you mean by 'one.'"
That got the woman to smirk—barely.
"Papers are ready. Academy enrollment begins tomorrow. Names can't be faked on the registry."
Selene nodded. "We're aware."
Kaelen frowned. "Wait… we're using our real names?"
The woman handed him a scroll, sealed with blue wax. "The Academy scans for forgeries. You enroll as who you are, or you don't enroll at all."
Selene looked at him. "This was always the plan. The fake names were for the road. The real test starts now."
Kaelen unrolled the scroll slowly. Kaelen Verros.
It looked real. Official. Embedded with a verification sigil.
He exhaled. "So much for hiding."
Selene's voice was gentle. "You're not hiding anymore. You're watching."
The woman added, "You'll have two weeks before the Tower fully reviews the new intake list. Make an impression—but not a loud one."
"Great," Kaelen muttered. "Subtlety. My specialty."
Selene smirked. "Come on. Let's find you a cloak that doesn't scream fugitive."
The next morning, the city was drowned in gold.
Sunlight lit the towers like fire through stained glass. The bells of Aetherion rang across the district—clear, deep, precise. Kaelen stood at the edge of the Academy's courtyard, clutching his admission scroll like it might turn to ash at any moment.
Students filed past in tailored robes, glyph-stitched jackets, and blades bound in ceremonial bands. They were loud, eager, confident. Kaelen had never felt more out of place.
Selene stood beside him, looking every bit the scholar she pretended to be. But her eyes never stopped moving. Not even here.
"You'll be fine," she said quietly. "Just remember what we practiced."
Kaelen nodded, trying not to fidget.
A sharp chime echoed across the stones.
A tall man in silver and blue robes stepped forward at the platform near the inner gates. His voice amplified magically.
"Welcome to the Aetherion Academy. Your names will now be called. Step forward when summoned. We will confirm identity and glyph signatures."
Kaelen's stomach twisted.
One by one, names were called. Some familiar. Some sharp and foreign. When "Kaelen Verros" rang out, the world felt too quiet.
He stepped forward.
A circle of light flared around his feet. A glyph floated above his hand—his glyph. The Veritas mark shimmered faintly, though less than usual. Maybe it knew to stay hidden.
The registrar looked him over. "Tier?"
Kaelen hesitated. "Ember. I think."
"Mm. Unusual signature."
The man didn't press. Just waved him through.
Kaelen exhaled and moved toward the student halls. Selene's eyes tracked him from a distance, and for the first time, he saw something almost like pride in her gaze.
His room was small—barely more than a cot, a desk, and a glyph-locked trunk. But it was clean. And it was his.
He dropped onto the bed, stared at the ceiling, and finally let the weight of the last week settle over him.
New name. New city. No turning back.
Just ahead, he knew, were faces he hadn't met yet. People who'd change his path again.
And one of them, even now, was already watching him from across the courtyard.
Waiting to be seen.
End of Chapter 11