The black limo rolled down a road that grew quieter and emptier as they left the city behind.
Tall, shiny buildings gave way to open land, dotted only with scattered trees and the occasional crooked lamppost.
Rian pressed his face to the window, eyes tracing the landscape shifting bit by bit.
In the distance, the outlines of Cresthaven Academy started taking shape against the grayish evening sky.
The buildings were big, sure, but even from afar, they looked old—walls weathered by time, roofs with uneven tiles, and a vibe of neglect that clashed with their size.
Inside the limo, Lena sprawled across her seat, legs stretched out and arms crossed. She stared out her own window, scowling every time the car hit a bump.
"What a dreary dump," she muttered, her tone dry with a pinch of irritation. "No clue why anyone'd wanna come here." She flicked her head slightly, shooting Rian a sidelong glance like she expected him to nod along.
Marcus, parked next to her, let out a low grunt while stroking his beard.
"It's a backwater academy," he said, voice deep but steady. "The buildings look stuck in the past, and I'd bet they've got squat worth training with. Still…" He paused, shrugging. "Guess it gets the job done." His gaze settled on Rian, who kept staring out the window with a calm look.
To Rian, the place didn't seem half bad.
The setup was massive: a dorm area with long buildings, an open field perfect for running, and gardens that, though overgrown, had a rough charm.
Sure, it was old.
The window frames were rusty, and paint peeled off the walls in spots, but that didn't dim how interesting it felt to Rian.
The limo finally pulled up at a stone entrance flanked by two tall, cracked pillars.
A cluster of people stopped to gawk at the car, eyes wide with curiosity.
A black limo wasn't an everyday sight here, and whispers kicked up right away.
Marcus rapped the driver's seatback with his knuckles.
"Here we are, kid," he said, turning to Rian with a small grin. "Welcome to Cresthaven."
Rian nodded, scratching his neck.
"Thanks for the ride."
Marcus raised a brow, tilting his head.
"Don't forget your stuff," he said, voice firm but tinged with worry. "Got your meds and phone on you?"
Rian cracked a little smile and peeled back one side of his gray tunic to show them.
The garment, old and a bit frayed, had sneaky inner pockets.
He reached in and pulled out the white phone Lena gave him, plus the cloth pouch with his red pills, supplements, and new meds.
"All right here," he said, patting the pocket before tucking it back.
Lena let out a dry chuckle, crossing her arms tighter.
"What a weird getup," she mumbled.
Rian turned to the door, frowning as he fumbled for the handle.
His fingers poked around the edge, landing on a lever he didn't quite get.
"How's this work?" he muttered to himself, yanking it with no luck.
Lena rolled her eyes, leaning forward with an over-the-top sigh.
"Like this," she said, impatience dripping.
She hit a button near the handle, and the door popped open with a soft click.
"Not rocket science."
Rian nodded, scratching his cheek again.
"Thanks," he said, clambering out with an awkward shuffle, boots thudding on the dusty ground.
The air outside was crisp, carrying a faint whiff of dry grass and old wood. He straightened up, adjusting the bag under his arm as he eyed the academy's entrance.
Lena poked her head out the open door, elbow on the frame.
"Hey," she said, voice gentler now. "Text me, alright? Wanna know how you hold up here."
Rian turned his head and nodded.
"Sure," he said, short and sharp. "See ya."
He raised a hand in a quick wave, and Lena shut the door with a firm thud. The limo peeled off, kicking up a dust cloud as it rolled away down the road.
Rian stood there a sec, watching it vanish into the distance.
Then he turned to the academy and started walking, brushing off the curious stares nearby.
Some students whispered among themselves, pointing on the sly.
"Who's that guy?" one said—a skinny kid in a ratty jacket.
"He famous or something?" another muttered—a girl with her hair in a messy ponytail.
"Look at that outfit, straight out of a cultivation novel," someone else chimed in, snickering low.
Rian tuned them out. His gray tunic, old and threadbare, stood out against the others' modern jackets and shirts, but he didn't care.
He kept heading for the main entrance—a stone arch with a faded 'Cresthaven' plaque, the letters barely readable.
He'd barely taken ten steps when a figure blocked his path.
A burly man in a dark blue uniform and a lopsided cap stepped up, raising a hand.
"Hey, you," he said, voice deep and commanding. "Hold it. Who're you?"
Rian stopped, frowning as he sized him up.
The guy had a short beard and a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt—obviously security.
"I'm Rian," he replied, tone calm but steady. "Starting here as a student."
The guard gave him a once-over, squinting like he wasn't sold.
"Rian, huh," he muttered, scratching his chin. "Wait here. Gotta check that." He whipped out the walkie-talkie with a quick move and pressed a button, talking low as he stepped aside a bit.
"Control, this is Javier. Got a Rian claiming he's a new student. Can you verify?"
Rian stood there, scratching his cheek while the guard chatted.
The students' eyes stayed glued to him, whispers buzzing nonstop.
"Maybe he's from some rich family," one voice piped up.
"Nah, look how he's dressed," another shot back, laughing.