Ash scattered from the burning sky as the divine spear faded, leaving only the whisper of its descent.
Auron stood unharmed, boots pressed into scorched earth, his silver eyes locked onto the one who dared summon godfire in front of him.
The cloaked stranger—the one-eyed man with the hollow gaze—lowered his hand.
And bowed.
"Forgive the trial," the man rasped. "We had to be certain."
Auron said nothing.
"You walked through the Veilscar unburned. You broke soul threads and left a Godmarked crying in the dust. That power… it cannot go unnoticed."
Still, Auron didn't speak. He watched the man's breathing, the twitch of his fingers, the shift of weight in his feet.
Old instincts again.
The man smiled. It was broken and honest and tinged with awe. "My name is Malric Vein. Herald of the Eternal Path. I am here to invite you… to The Astral Spire."
Auron's eyes narrowed. "The Godmarked Academy?"
Malric nodded. "We call it many things. Most call it madness. But it is where the greatest converge. Where bloodlines meet. Where heirs of gods and monsters are forged."
"And you want me there. Why?"
Malric's voice lowered. "Because even the stars turned when you walked past."
---
They rode at dawn.
Auron said nothing during the first hour of silence as the warbeast beneath him padded across the frozen plains. Malric rode beside him on a four-legged wyrmhound, its hide marked with arcane scars. Snow whipped around them, but neither felt cold.
The sky, however, felt... wrong.
Clouds spun slowly, unnaturally. As if held together by strings of divine will.
Above them, suspended in the heavens, floated a vast ring of stone—broken yet colossal. A shattered sky fortress, miles wide. It rotated slowly, casting spirals of shadow over the world.
Malric caught his gaze.
"That was once Aetherion. Temple of Stars. Before the Godfall, it housed twelve Thrones. Now… only ghosts whisper through it."
Auron nodded, saying nothing.
Malric tried again. "Have you seen the divine fractures yet?"
"I've seen worse."
Malric gave a grim chuckle. "Then you'll fit in."
---
As they crossed the first ridge of the Emberfrost Valley, the world began to shift.
Forests turned crimson. Trees grew twisted, bent toward a strange magnetic pull. In the distance, a mountain floated—literally—its roots of black rock reaching into a vortex of green sky.
The wind here sang.
Not with sound.
But with memory.
Auron closed his eyes briefly.
He could feel it—souls etched into the land, battlefields buried beneath ice and time. The lingering imprint of godblood.
This realm wasn't natural.
It was stitched together from the corpses of better worlds.
---
Malric eventually broke the silence again. "You're not like the others."
Auron raised a brow.
"They come for power, prestige, or survival. You… you carry something else."
Auron didn't answer.
Instead, he asked, "Is the Sword still there?"
Malric blinked. "Sword?"
Auron's voice was cold and flat. "The one that shifts shape. Dragon. Blade. Woman. They said it was sealed beneath the Astral Spire."
Malric frowned. "A myth. Academy legend. We tell it to first-years."
"But it's real," Auron murmured. "I've seen it. In another life, it chose someone else."
Malric stared at him. "You're... different."
"No," Auron said quietly. "I'm broken. And the world will crack with me."
---
By the time the Astral Spire came into view, the sun had dipped beneath the horizon.
It didn't matter.
Because the Spire glowed.
It wasn't just a tower—it was a living mountain of crystal, bone, and starlight. Spirals of architecture looped impossibly into the sky. Great stone arms held up celestial rings that pulsed with radiant scripture. Banners bearing the marks of extinct clans fluttered in unseen wind.
At its base were twelve colossal statues—each one a god, demon, or something in between. Their eyes followed those who approached.
Some students trembled beneath them.
Auron met their gaze without blinking.
---
The gates opened before they even reached them.
A welcoming party stood within: four robed elders, each bearing a different sigil—Moonfire, Worldroot, Glassbane, and Hollowwake.
Behind them stood students. Dozens. Some curious. Some cautious. Some already looking for weaknesses.
He recognized the glint in their eyes.
Predators, all of them.
A boy with feathers growing from his neck leaned toward a pale girl with glowing pupils. "That him?"
"Yeah. Silver eyes. He's the one who broke the bounty net. They say he made a vow explode."
"Liar," another muttered. "No one breaks vows. Not unless they're—"
"Dead?" Auron asked, stepping forward. His voice cut through the air like a blade.
They all froze.
"I died once," he said. "So I learned to kill what couldn't be broken."
The crowd fell silent.
The elders exchanged looks. One of them, a sharp-eyed woman with twin serpents around her arms, stepped forward.
"I am Instructor Kaelis," she said, tone cool. "State your intention."
Auron held her gaze. "I came to unearth a sword."
"The Sentient Blade is a myth."
"Then I'll dig through your myths and burn your truths until I find it."
One of the other instructors scoffed. "Arrogance isn't strength."
Auron looked at him.
"No," he replied. "But I don't need strength. I just need time."
The sky crackled as if in response.
---
Later that night, as the Spire's inner halls welcomed him into their winding cores, Auron was led to the Newblood Dorms—a sprawling set of towers each aligned to an ancient constellation.
His room was at the highest level of the Tower of Mirrors.
Stone. Cold. Window facing the fractured moon.
He liked it.
He stood there for a long time, hands in his coat pockets, staring out into the broken sky.
And then he whispered to the stars:
"One of you holds the sword. And when I find it… I'll burn everything that ever held me back."
---
[System Alert: Passive Trace Initiated]
Target Item: Sentient Blade of Shath'Arin — Status: Dormant. Location: Obscured beneath layered seals. Awakening probability: 12.4%
Trigger Required: Trauma. Bond. Name-forging.
---
Auron smiled.
Trauma? He had plenty.
Bond?
That would come in time.
Name-forging?
He'd already shattered his.
---
End of Chapter 4