Chapter 127: Results
Dawn came gray and subdued to Velmont, with clouds hanging low enough to brush the academy’s highest spires.
Alaric stood in the academy’s main courtyard, hands buried deep in his pockets as he surveyed the growing crowd.
The space could easily hold a thousand people. But today it felt smaller, compressed by the sheer weight of anticipation that radiated from every candidate present.
Beside him, Elina maintained her carefully controlled posture.
Her golden eyes moved constantly across the crowd.
"Nervous?" Alaric asked quietly.
"No." The word came too quickly, too sharp.
"Of course not." He shifted his weight, studying the raised platform where academy faculty were beginning to gather.
"Just making conversation."
She shot him a sideways glance, but before she could respond, movement near the main gates drew their attention.
More candidates were arriving, some alone, others accompanied by family members whose faces bore mixtures of pride and worry.
At precisely nine o’clock, the great bell in the academy’s central tower began to toll.
The sound rolled across the courtyard like thunder, instantly silencing every conversation and drawing all attention to the faculty platform.
Marcelline Draavos stepped forward, her hair pulled back.
"Candidates," her voice carried clearly across the silent courtyard without need for amplification.
"You have all demonstrated courage simply by attempting these examinations. Today, some of you will join the ranks of Phoenix Academy students. Others will find their paths leading elsewhere."
She paused, letting the weight of those words settle over the crowd.
Alaric felt rather than saw Elina’s subtle intake of breath beside him. Her fingers had stopped worrying the loose thread on her glove and now pressed flat against her skirt, as if anchoring herself in place.
"The results of your examinations have been compiled. Those accepted will find their tokens glowing. Those not selected will find them dark."
She raised the crystal above her head. "Activate."
A wave of energy pulsed outward from the device.
Alaric felt his examination token grow warm against his chest where he’d kept it.
Around the courtyard, dozens of similar tokens began to emit a soft golden glow—visible even through clothing and bags.
Beside him, Elina’s breath caught as her own token brightened.
Across the crowd, reactions erupted immediately.
Cheers from those whose tokens glowed. Stunned silence from others.
"Accepted candidates report to the registrar within the hour," Marcelline Draavos announced over the rising noise. "Classes begin Monday."
"Well," Elina said quietly, studying the glow emanating from her token. "I suppose we’re both in."
"Did you doubt it?"
She looked at him then and scoffed.
"Yes. I thought mother’s favorite would be going home today."
The words carried more venom than he’d expected, but underneath the bitterness was something rawer, genuine fear that she’d been judged and found wanting.
"Mother’s favorite?" Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think this is about?"
"Isn’t it?" Elina’s golden eyes flashed. "The mysterious heir who appears from nowhere, gets handed everything."
"Well, you have the right to be jealous but, it seems she choose someone more compatible."
She opened her mouth to argue, then seemed to catch herself. Around them, the crowd was beginning to move toward the academy’s main building.
"I should go," she said instead, tucking her glowing token away. "Before the lines get impossible."
They both moved and joined the flow of new students making their way inside.
The registrar’s office occupied a large chamber where several clerks sat behind desks piled with documents.
"Next!"
Alaric approached an available desk. The middle-aged woman looked up with professional courtesy.
"Name?"
"Alaric Glimor."
She consulted a thick ledger, running her finger down columns until she found his entry.
"Northwind Hall, Room 247." She handed him a small card.
"Uniforms are present inside your dorm room. Class schedules will be provided by Sunday evening."
That was it. No further explanations, no pleasantries. Just the basics and move along.
Elina’s process was equally brief. Room assignment, uniform information, next student please.
"Silverbrook Hall," she said as they exited, consulting her card. "At least it sounds better than Northwind."
"Probably the same stone and wood inside."
"Probably." She tucked the card away.
"Just go away and find your place before you get lost." She said and turned to move.
Then, they both parted ways in the courtyard, each following different paths through the academy grounds.
Alaric’s route took him past training yards where older students were already practicing with weapons, through gardens where the scent of blooming flowers mixed with the distant sound of lectures in progress.
Northwind Hall turned out to be a four-story stone building with narrow windows. Inside, corridors lined with wooden doors.
Room 247 sat at the end of a hallway on the second floor.
Alaric turned the key he’d been given and pushed open the door to reveal a simple but adequate space, two beds, two desks, two wardrobes, and a window that looked out over one of the academy’s courtyards.
His traveling bag sat on one bed, having been delivered from their inn. The other bed remained empty, waiting for whoever his roommate would turn out to be.
Alaric claimed the bed nearest the window, unpacked his few belongings, and settled into the room’s chair. The events of the morning were finally catching up with him.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Then the footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. They paused at his door, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock.
The door opened to reveal a familiar face.
Tousled brown hair, earnest eyes that widened in recognition, the same nervous energy that had marked their brief encounter at the examination grounds.
Oliver stepped into the room, carrying a traveling bag and wearing an expression of mild disbelief.
"Oh," he said, blinking at Alaric. "It’s you."
"Apparently." Alaric gestured to the empty bed. "I assume that’s yours."
Oliver nodded slowly, as if still processing his presence at the academy.
"I keep thinking someone’s going to tell me it was all a mistake."
"They won’t." Alaric watched as his new roommate set down his bag with careful precision. "You’re here. Might as well get used to it."
"Right." Oliver managed a weak smile. "I suppose we’re roommates then."
"Looks that way."
-----------------
In one of the academy rooms, two narrow beds were placed along with a washbasin, and a window that overlooked the academy’s eastern gardens where late morning light filtered through carefully tended trees.
A girl sat slumped on the edge of her bed, platinum hair falling like a curtain around her face.
Her examination token lay dark and cold in her palm, no glow, no warmth, just polished metal that reflected nothing.
"They said some results might be delayed," Sera said from across the room, where she was methodically unpacking her few belongings.
"Administrative complications, review processes. It doesn’t mean anything yet."
Her movements were careful, precise, as she removed the formal clothes they’d worn for the ceremony.
The black blindfold came off last, revealing golden eyes that blinked rapidly in the sudden brightness before adjusting to the room’s natural light.
"You don’t have to pretend." Lyria’s voice came out flat, empty. "We both know what a dark token means."
Sera pulled on a simple cotton dress, something comfortable. She moved to the window, pushing it open to let fresh air chase away the staleness of closed spaces.
"Look at this place," she said amusingly, leaning against the sill like a child discovering the world for the first time.
"The gardens go on forever. And those buildings... are those the libraries? I heard they have books from kingdoms that don’t even exist anymore."
Lyria didn’t respond, still staring at the lifeless token in her hand.
Sera turned away from the window, settling on her own bed so they faced each other across the narrow space.
"Even if you don’t get any response from them, you can try again next year."
"Next year."
Lyria laughed bitterly.
Sera smiled brightly.
"I’ll be here as your senior, you know, I can guide you, help you prepare better for the next examination. We’ll figure it out together."
She giggled.
Lyria’s hands clenched into fists. "You don’t understand. I can’t go back to them. I won’t."
The words came out as a hiss, carrying venom that made Sera’s cheerful expression falter.
"Lyria—"
"They’ll say I failed. That I didn’t try hard enough, didn’t want it enough." Lyria’s voice cracked.
"And then they’ll decide what’s best for me again. Where I should go, what I should do, who I should become."
Sera reached across the space between beds, her fingers brushing Lyria’s clenched fist. "They can’t force you—"
"Can’t they?" The platinum-haired girl pulled away from the touch. "When has anyone ever asked what I wanted? When have my choices ever mattered?"
The silence stretched between them.
"The academy isn’t the only path," Sera said finally, her voice gentler now. "There are other ways to—"
"To what? To be useful?" Lyria’s pale eyes flashed.
"To serve their purposes while pretending I have agency in my own life?"
She stood abruptly, moving to the window where Sera had been moments before.
The gardens spread below them, peaceful and green, filled with students and flowers.
Behind her, Sera’s bed creaked as the golden-haired girl shifted, searching for words that might bridge the gap between hope and despair.
But some chasms were too wide for simple reassurance, and they both knew it.