Aeryn had three distinct problems.
The first came in the form of a dream.
Her first day at Aetherion Academy had gone exactly as expected—or at least, as well as it could after being thrust into the highest tier.
The moment she had been sorted into Ascendent Tier, Class 1, she had drawn attention. Some students knew her from the trials, others had simply heard the stories—about the girl with the spirit who had fought beside her.
She had smiled politely, endured the brief flood of questions, and navigated the sudden weight of expectation as she was given a brief tour of the academy before being led to the Ascendent dormitories.
And then, finally, she had been alone.
The dorm room was nice, spacious in a way that felt almost too empty. Unlike Foundation and Ember tiers, the students of Ascendent were not paired with roommates—each was given a private space to accommodate their need for independent research and study.
Aeryn didn't mind.
But she did feel… adrift.
She was exhausted from the day's events, so much so that the moment she lay down, she barely had time to process the silence before sleep took her.
And then—the dream.
It was slow at first, the edges of it forming like ink bleeding into paper. Aeryn found herself standing alone, surrounded by a low mist, the world eerily silent.
She knew, somehow, that this was the academy.
But it was wrong.
The halls, the towers, the courtyard—it was all buried beneath an endless web of vines.
They stretched over every stone, every wall, every path—thick, coiling masses of dark green that pulsed as if alive. The academy looked like a forgotten ruin, consumed by something far older than its walls.
Aeryn took a hesitant step forward, her breath shallow. The silence was suffocating, the weight of it pressing in on her.
Then, ahead of her, she saw Sylra.
Or rather—what remained of her.
Her spirit was ensnared in the vines, her once radiant glow dimmed to a dull, lifeless gray.
Aeryn's pulse spiked as she moved toward her, heart pounding. "Sylra?"
No response.
She reached out, fingers barely brushing against the vines—
They tightened.
And from within them, something shifted.
Aeryn's breath hitched as she felt it—that same presence from her trial, the thing she had fought against, the thing that had tried to consume her.
The vines moved, stretching toward her, inching closer—
And she woke up.
Aeryn's eyes snapped open, heart hammering against her ribs.
She sat up abruptly, her breaths uneven, the dream lingering like a specter at the edge of her thoughts.
For a moment, she could still feel it—the vines, the presence, the overwhelming wrongness of it all.
A soft, familiar glow pulled her from the panic.
Sylra hovered at her side, watching her quietly.
"...Bad dream?" the spirit asked.
Aeryn exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah. Something like that."
Sylra didn't press. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, the movement both curious and expectant.
Aeryn sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "Let's take a walk."
The courtyard was quiet at night, the soft glow of floating lanterns casting gentle pools of light across the paved paths.
Aeryn walked at a leisurely pace, her fingers absentmindedly weaving together a small construct of intertwining roots and leaves—a miniature version of the tree she had formed in the trials.
Sylra floated beside her, saying nothing as Aeryn mulled over her thoughts.
Eventually, she stopped, turning toward the nearest bench and sitting down. The tiny tree settled in her palm, its leaves shimmering faintly.
She placed her other hand against the bark, closing her eyes.
And there it was—the faintest trace of something else.
Something still lingering.
Aeryn's expression tightened.
So you still remain.
She closed her fingers around the tree.
It crumbled into dust.
Sylra watched the remnants scatter into the air, then glanced at Aeryn, who had already stood up.
"Feel better?" the spirit asked.
Aeryn didn't answer right away.
She glanced once more at the academy—the towering spires, the pristine stone, the illusion of peace that the halls carried.
Then she turned and walked away.
"Let's go back," she said.
And so, they did.
But the dream lingered.
And Aeryn knew better than to ignore it.
The next incident had started on her very first day as a student of Aetherion Academy.
It had been going well enough—her placement had earned her some impressed whispers, and Sylra had caught more than a few fascinated stares. But things had taken a turn during their introductory tour, when their instructor, Professor Aldric Luthren, had decided to make an impromptu stop at the Ascendent Training Hall.
Unlike the standard training hall the other tiers used, the Ascendent Hall was less a polished facility and more a war zone. The dueling arenas were reinforced with layer upon layer of magic, the air thick with the lingering energy of past battles. Arcane scorch marks and gouged stone littered the floors. It wasn't hard to imagine how intense the training here could get.
When they arrived, the hall was already in use by a group of upperclassmen. A battle was taking place in the center of the main arena, with more students gathered around in a loose semi-circle, watching with casual interest. Aeryn immediately got the sense that these weren't just training duels—there was an unspoken hierarchy at play.
At first, she simply observed. Two boys were engaged in what was generously being called a "duel." One of them, a wiry student with short, dark hair and a defiant scowl, was struggling to stay upright. His opponent—a taller, more muscular upperclassman with a cocky smirk—barely looked winded.
It wasn't much of a fight. It was a beatdown.
The upperclassman was toying with his opponent, dodging or countering every move with humiliating ease. Every time the smaller boy tried to cast a spell or shift into a new stance, the stronger one would punish him with a well-placed blow, forcing him to stumble back, gasping for breath.
"Come on, is this really all you've got?" the upperclassman taunted, sidestepping another desperate lunge. His voice carried easily across the hall, dripping with mockery. "No wonder you're still stuck at the bottom of the class. You fight like a damn Ember student."
A few chuckles rippled through the audience, and Aeryn's fingers curled into fists.
The beaten boy tried to retreat, raising a shaking hand. "I—I yield."
The words had barely left his mouth before his opponent sneered and lashed out with a ruthless backhand, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
"You yield when I say you yield," the upperclassman scoffed. "And we're not done yet."
Aeryn's jaw tightened. She turned to Professor Luthren, expecting him to step in, but the man remained as impassive as ever, arms folded over his chest.
"Shouldn't you do something?" she asked, voice sharp.
Aldric didn't even glance her way. "He hasn't broken any rules."
Aeryn's eyes narrowed. "He's refusing to accept his opponent's surrender."
Vale finally spared her a look, though it was one of mild disinterest. "The lesson here isn't for the one being beaten. It's for everyone watching."
Aeryn frowned. "And what lesson is that?"
"That the strong rule the battlefield. And those who can't keep up should find a different way to survive."
Aeryn had never felt so disgusted in her life.
She turned her attention back to the arena, where the beaten boy was struggling onto his hands and knees, only for his opponent to raise a glowing hand, gathering magic for another strike.
Aeryn had seen enough.
The moment the attack was about to land, a thick wall of vines burst from the ground, cutting between the two fighters. The upperclassman jerked back in surprise as the roots coiled upward, forming an impenetrable barrier between him and his victim.
A murmur spread through the gathered crowd.
The battered boy, barely clinging to consciousness, let out a weak breath and collapsed into the waiting vines, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
His opponent, on the other hand, turned his fury toward Aeryn.
"The hell is this?!" he snarled, spinning on his heel to glare in her direction.
Aeryn met his glare with an unflinching stare of her own, her arms crossed. "A duel is over when one of the participants yields. That was a one-sided beating."
His lips curled into a sneer. "What's the matter? Soft spot for weaklings?"
"I have a problem with people who get their kicks from proving how strong they are against someone who can't fight back," Aeryn shot back. "You had your win. You just wanted to humiliate him."
The upperclassman's smirk returned, but it was colder now. "You must be new."
"She is," a voice called from the audience. "And she's in class 1 apparently."
That got more of a reaction than Aeryn had expected. Some of the onlookers chuckled, while others shifted in interest, looking between her and the upperclassman with renewed curiosity.
The sneering boy's eye twitched. "That so?"
Professor Luthren finally spoke, though he sounded more amused than anything. "Yes. Ms. Aeryn here has earned the top placement in Class 1."
Aeryn ignored the way some of the gathered students turned toward her with intrigue. She wasn't here to make a name for herself. She just hadn't been able to sit back and watch that nonsense unfold.
Unfortunately, it seemed she had just made herself a target.
The upperclassman's grin sharpened. "If you think I was too rough on him, why don't you step in and see how you handle it?"
Aeryn rolled her eyes. "Not interested."
He let out a low chuckle. "Don't worry. You will be."
With a casual flick of his wrist, the vines obstructing his path disintegrated into ash, burned away in an instant. Aeryn felt Sylra stir on her shoulder, watching the upperclassman with a rare display of curiosity.
"Next time you feel like stepping in where you don't belong," he continued, "make sure you're ready to back it up."
Aeryn held his gaze, unshaken. "And next time you feel like showing off, try picking on someone who can actually fight back."
For a moment, the tension in the air was almost tangible.
Then, with a short laugh, the upperclassman turned on his heel and strode off, his lackeys falling in behind him. The unconscious student was left behind, still nestled in the vines.
Aeryn exhaled slowly, releasing her magic as the plants withered away, gently setting the injured student down.
Professor Luthren gave her a long, unreadable look before finally speaking. "If you plan to survive in the Ascendent Tier, I'd recommend picking your battles more carefully."
Aeryn didn't look at him. "And I'd recommend making sure your students aren't beating each other half to death for fun."
Aldric chuckled. "We'll see how long that attitude lasts."
Aeryn scowled but said nothing, watching as some of the bystanders moved in to check on the unconscious student.
The final incident happened immediately after the last—before Aeryn had even had the chance to fully process what had just happened in the training hall.
Her class had moved on, continuing their tour through the academy. The tension from earlier still lingered in the air, but most students had chosen to ignore it, whispering among themselves rather than openly acknowledging what had transpired.
Aeryn kept mostly to herself, her thoughts still wrapped around the sneering boy from the arena, the unconscious student, and the absolute nonsense her instructor had just let happen without so much as blinking.
But her brooding was cut short when they arrived at the Library of Beginnings.
The towering structure loomed over them, an impossibly vast spire of books and arcane records, its spiraling, layered architecture almost alive in the way it seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky.
Unlike the other facilities they had toured so far, they weren't being led inside. Instead, their instructor simply walked ahead, leading them in a wide circle around the exterior of the building.
"As I'm sure many of you have already heard," Aldric began, hands clasped neatly behind his back, "access to the Library of Beginnings is highly restricted. Students do not enter its physical space. Instead, we use the mana registration system, as demonstrated earlier, to access the books remotely."
Aeryn only half-listened, her attention flickering between the towering structure and Sylra, who had been oddly restless ever since they arrived.
The spirit was hovering slightly ahead of her, watching the library with an expression Aeryn couldn't quite decipher.
Then, without warning, Sylra reached out and pressed her hand against the outer wall.
Aeryn barely had time to react before it happened.
A soft, melodic hum pulsed through the air.
And in the next instant, Sylra's form broke apart.
Light unraveled from her fingertips first, then her arms, then the rest of her body—splintering into thousands of glowing fragments. It happened too fast for Aeryn to react, her breath catching in her throat as the deconstructed light particles were pulled into the tower's surface—absorbed seamlessly, as if she had been claimed by the structure itself.
The class froze.
Aeryn's pulse spiked as she lunged forward, her hand slamming against the exact spot where Sylra had just disappeared.
"Sylra?"
She closed her eyes, reaching out with her mana, desperately searching for the connection she had always felt with her spirit—the thread that bound them together.
And to her relief, it was still there.
Faint. Distant. But there.
"What the hell just happened?" someone whispered.
Another student took an uneasy step back, as if afraid the same thing might happen to them.
Aeryn turned sharply to Aldric, her heart pounding. "How do I get her out?"
The instructor looked just as stunned as she was.
"I… I don't know," he admitted, rubbing his chin, his sharp amber eyes narrowing as he examined the wall. "In my twenty years of teaching here, I have never seen the doors to the library open. Not even once."
His words hit like a stone in Aeryn's stomach.
"But you can do something, right?" she pressed, fighting the unease creeping into her voice.
Aldric hesitated. "I will put in a request to the Headmaster to inquire about the situation," he said, his tone measured, controlled. "But for now, we are already running behind schedule."
Aeryn's hands clenched into fists.
That was it?
Her spirit had just been absorbed into an ancient library, and the best she was getting was a formal request?
A ripple of whispers spread among the students, their curiosity barely masking the nervousness in their voices.
Aeryn gritted her teeth, forcing herself to take a step back from the wall. She could still feel Sylra. That was something.
But that didn't make it easier to walk away.
Still, she had no choice.
With a final, reluctant glance at the towering structure, she exhaled sharply and followed the rest of the class forward.
For the first time since arriving at Aetherion Academy, she felt completely alone.
And it would push Aeryn to her breaking point.
One that would lead to yet another incident—one that would not be contained to her alone.
This time, the whole academy would feel it.