Chapter 25: The Academy
Octavius recognized the cloak draped over her shoulders, remembering one of the contestants donning it earlier. However, her face seemed different, her features now eerily ethereal.
Her gaze lingered on Octavius before shifting to the man, her eyes narrowing slightly. She took deliberate steps closer to him, her aura radiating an unsettling intensity that made him recoil, taking two frightened steps back.
"He's telling the truth," she repeated, with an authoritative tone. "I saw it for myself."
The man stiffened, attempting to regain his composure and salvage his dignity.
"How do you explain his possession of so many atherstones?" he challenged. "You might be an accomplice of his..."
"Are you calling me a liar?" she interrupted, her voice laced with subtle menace. She took another step closer, her eyes never leaving the man's face.
He retreated, his backpedaling swift and panicked, as he stumbled backward by four hasty steps.
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Seemingly satisfied with his reaction, she turned her attention to Octavius. Her gaze swept over him, her head tilting slightly as she inspected him with curiosity. Her eyes lingered on the Pochebag slung across his shoulders.
"Can I have one?" she asked. "I would very much like to get into the Academy too."
Before Octavius could respond, a commotion erupted at the edge of the clearing. Two figures burst into view, sprinting toward them with frantic urgency, as if fleeing from some terrorizing force. Their faces were twisted with fear, and their ragged breathing echoed through the air.
The girl who had requested for one of the aetherstones, tore her gaze away from Octavius and flicked toward the newcomers, with an unreadable expression.
Octavius brushed past the woman to get a better view, and his eyes landed on the speedster from earlier, as well as Marilyn, both of whom were catching their breath.
As soon as they locked eyes with Octavius and the others, the speedster swiftly produced his daggers, pointing them menacingly.
Octavius shifted his gaze away from the speedster and onto Marilyn, taking in her bruised features. "Are you okay?"
Marilyn looked nervous, her eyes darting toward Octavius, but as she took in the scene – the woman, the speedster, and Octavius, all seemingly unaggressive – her tension eased. She turned to the speedster, Otto, who was sweating profusely, and reassured him, "It's okay, Otto. They... he won't harm us."
Otto hesitated, his knife still at the ready, but as he looked around and saw that no one was attacking, his fear began to dissipate. Recognition dawned on his face as he looked at Octavius, and he slowly lowered his dagger.
"Where are the others?" Octavius asked Marilyn.
But Void chimed in mentally. [Sipping tea and chit-chatting somewhere, dumbass.]
Marilyn's expression turned somber, and she replied bluntly, "Dead."
"We should head back," Octavius suggested, scanning the group. "Does anyone have a pistol?"
"But we haven't gotten what we came here for." Marilyn pointed out. It feels like the aetherstones don't even exist. And the ones they carried around were absolute fakes."
"How do you know that?" the other girl asked Marilyn.
Marilyn observed her, seemingly never noticing her before she spoke, or when the group was formed. "Who are you?"
"My name is Nadia, and I'm one of the contestants."
Marilyn's gaze lingered on Nadia, she knew for certain she had never seen her face before but then again they were a lot of people.
"You said they were fakes," Nadia prompted, drawing Marilyn out of her reverie. "How did you know that?"
Marilyn's eyes refocused, and she replied, "Because I've seen one before."
"You've seen one, or because you were given one... better still, because you have one in your possession."
With a swift motion, Nadia stepped forward, yanked open her pouch, and produced the stone, her eyes never leaving Marilyn's face.
Otto's eyes widened as soon as he saw the stone. He took two cautious steps back, away from Marilyn. Suspecting she also had a hand in the death of the other contestants.
"I know it's fake because I've seen the real one," Marilyn explained. "The late headmaster brought it to show my father, and he let me touch it. I know what it feels like."
Marilyn's expression turned defiant as she turned to the rest of the group, as if anticipating criticism. "Save whatever judgments you have about my connection to the late headmaster. I couldn't care less."
She turned to Nadia, taking a deliberate step closer to enclose the space between them. "And about the stone," Marilyn began, her hand darting out to jerk the stone from Nadia's grasp.
Marilyn turned to face the others, the stone held aloft. "Someone gave it to me out of the blue. I didn't know why, but I didn't feel like disposing of it. That's why I stuck around, trying to find the real one."
"Why would someone give it to you willingly, when people are killing each other to get it?" Nadia pressed on.
Just as Marilyn was about to respond, Octavius intervened, handing one of the stones from his pouch to Marilyn.
"Is this the real one?" he asked.
Marilyn's eyes widened in surprise, but she took the stone and inspected it carefully. After a moment, she handed it back to Octavius, her expression eager.
"How did you get your hands on this? Where can I find one?" she asked, her questions tumbling out in rapid succession.
"You don't have to," Octavius replied. "You can keep that one."
He tossed another stone to Otto, and then, with a hint of reluctance, he threw one to Nadia. His gaze shifted to the last individual, the one who had attacked him brutally earlier. The man's sweaty complexion seemed to intensify under Octavius's scrutiny.
After a prolonged, tense moment, Octavius finally threw a stone in the man's direction. He turned to Otto, who he had spotted with a pistol on his waist and issued a calm instruction: "Shoot it."
Otto glanced over at his waist to see who Octavius wanted him to shoot and his eyes widened. He let out a nervous chuckle having forgotten he had that with him.
[You do realize you're making a mistake right?] Void, who had been quiet during the whole ordeal, asked him.
"If it's done intentionally, it's not a mistake," Octavius replied, suppressing a smile that almost broke through.
A gunshot rang through the air, and a portal came forth, just as the Mage had said.
****
The Portal shimmered and pulsed with a soft glow, finally releasing them into a spacious room that buzzed with anticipation. Seated on the high chairs surrounding them were three council members, each adorned in intricate robes that reflected their status and authority.
Eriol was the only Mage missing from the trope.
In the middle of the room stood seven other contestants, each showing a range of emotions—some appeared anxious, while others seemed confident. However, they all recognized the significance of the gathering.
But upon the new contestant's entrance, the others reacted with visible displeasure.
One of the Council members, recognized by his long hair as the Mage of the Healers faction, spoke up.
"Why are there five more of you?" He turned to Emery, the Architect Mage, and added, "I thought it was made clear that only ten people could enter."
Emery chuckled nervously and quickly glanced at his daughter, who had just walked in alongside the others.
"The others weren't complete," he explained. "So it seems fitting to remove three people from the group that just arrived."
"Not so fast," a commanding yet melodic voice rang out, its source belonging to the enigmatic mage of the Conjurer faction. The intensity in her gaze was unmistakable as she regarded the group. "We don't even know if they have the stones yet."
Emery immediately stood up, and positioned himself at the forefront of the assembly of mages, and turned to face the contestants gathered before him.
His voice resonated with authority as he proclaimed, "Bring forth your aetherstones."
The air was thick with anticipation as each member of the group fumbled through their satchels, and brought forth their aetherstones.
As they held them aloft, the aetherstones emitted a brilliant light that pierced through the surrounding darkness, casting intricate patterns that danced across the faces of those present. The radiance of the stones was a testament to their authenticity, each flicker and shimmer speaking of the power they held within.
Amidst this display, the Council members exchanged furtive glances, their brows furrowing in a complex web of unspoken thoughts. Each subtle shift of their expressions hinted at something only they knew of.
Marilyn spoke up, asserting confidently, "We have the real stones." Her voice held a weight that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Then, with a measured glance, she turned to the other contestants who had been there before they arrived.
"But we can't say the same for them because the ones they have with them are all duplicated fakes. So we all deserve to be among the top ten while not subtracted."
As Marilyn spoke, Octavius's attention drifted away, his gaze locking onto a contestant he was certain he had never seen before, at least not among the grouped contestants.
Because if he did, he would have tailed him back at the forest and made sure he didn't make it back with them.
The boy's face was unmistakable, etched in Octavius's memory as one of Thorne's friends – the same one who had brought Octavius to the cave, leading him to his downfall.
Octavius's jaw clenched in suppressed anger. He was torn between confronting the man and maintaining his composure.
But then, he felt a strange sense of gratitude toward Void, who currently controlled his body. Void's presence was the only thing holding Octavius back from unleashing his fury upon the man.
Octavius's gaze swept across the remaining contestants, his eyes scanning their faces with growing unease. He was certain that some of the individuals standing before him had not been part of the original group.
The Healers Mage's voice cut through Octavius's intense gaze, drawing his attention back to the conversation.
"...We saw the Stones ourselves, and the same glow emanated from it, just like it did yours. Unless you're calling the Councilors liars..."
Marilyn opened her mouth to say something, but the glare she got from Emery made her swallow back her words.
Octavius had long affirmed their relationship as father and daughter, since he set eyes on both of them. When his late father was still alive, his father would take him to visit his fellow Mages' houses, and he'd get a chance to have a brief chat with their children.
Octavius had never been close to Emery's daughter Marilyn, but his late sister had been. And he was previlaged to come across her few hours before some people attempted to kill him.
"But we will give you flowers for attempting the challenge and getting the Aetherstones," the Conjurer's Mage added, drawing Octavius out of his reverie again.
"We don't want flowers; we want to be in the top ten to enter the Academy," Otto spoke up for the first time since they got there. "For getting the Aetherstones, you can at least do us that much."
Emery moved closer to the other mages and his voice dropped to a whisper.
"We cannot deny that every single one of them holds great potential for being able to find the Aetherstone. Not one but five. Even we weren't able to get a hold of one. If not for the late mage guidance, we would have never known what they looked or feel like. Indeed, those stones from the other groups were fake, so how about we issue—"
Before Emery could finish, the Conjurer's Mage cut him off with a rude tone. "Whoever told you your opinion is relevant in this matter, Emery?"
Emery's lips pursed, his anger simmering just below the surface, but he bit it back. He had grown accustomed to the disrespect, and he knew better than to argue with the Conjurer's Mage.
"Perhaps you're forgetting that I own this faction," Emery let out cooly.
The Conjurer's Mage sneered, her eyes flashing yellow in warning. "You didn't remember that when you agreed to let the other members be eliminated. Just because your daughter is in it now, you're getting cocky. Don't get over your head on this."
"But I suppose you're right," she countered, her eyes returning to normal. "They could be of credible use. To ensure fairness, we should put this to a vote. We'll use the late Headmaster's method of voting."
Emery nodded and turned to face the group, whose agitated expressions reflected their growing impatience. "To ensure fairness, we are going to issue the wild card method of voting—"
Emery's words trailed off as a sudden realization struck him. His gaze locked onto Octavius, and he recalled how the young man had proposed the 'Wild Card option' – a method composed by the late mage and used once and it was known only to those within the Academy. A flicker of surprise crossed Emery's face.
And he wondered how Octavius had managed that.
The more he stared at Octavius, he realized how familiar he looked. He couldn't just place his hands on where he had seen him before.