The streets of Arcathis were bustling, almost unrecognizable from their usual structured layout. Temporary stalls lined the main roads, selling everything from enchanted trinkets to exotic foods. The air smelled of roasting meats, burning incense, and the distinct scent of alchemical mixtures bubbling away in open demonstrations.
But beneath the festival-like atmosphere, there was an underlying tension. This wasn't just a school event—it was a battleground of influence. Nobles, merchant lords, and warlords alike had gathered, each with their own agendas.
Kalem scowled as he nudged his way through the crowd. "See? This is why I didn't want to come."
Lyra, walking beside him, grinned. "What? Why not? Festivals are fun when there are people."
"Can you even call this a festival?" Nara interjected, watching a group of heavily armed knights march through the streets. "Feels more like a meeting of world powers."
"Agreed," Jhaeros said, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. "It's not just curious spectators—these people came with purpose."
Kalem sighed, adjusting the small satchel slung over his shoulder. "This isn't about students proving themselves. This is a market. A chance for powerful people to scout talent, make deals, and shift the balance of power."
He wasn't wrong. Arcathis' Gladiatorial Tournament was known for attracting attention, but this year seemed different. Even the city's guards, usually disciplined, were on edge, keeping a close watch on the foreign entourages arriving in droves.
Kalem's eyes flickered to a group of robed individuals near a potion stall, speaking in hushed tones. Their attire bore the insignia of the Magus Council, the governing body of magical research in the western territories. Further ahead, a cluster of well-dressed nobles walked with guards in silver-plated armor, whispering among themselves.
Something bigger was at play.
A Suspicion Confirmed
As they weaved through the crowd, Kalem turned to Lyra.
"Now that I think about it… is your family going to come?"
Lyra stiffened mid-step. "What?"
Kalem shrugged. "I mean, you're of noble birth, right? So they'd want to see how you're doing."
Nara frowned. "Wait, what are you talking about?"
Kalem smirked slightly, glancing at Lyra. "I've suspected it for a while now."
Lyra folded her arms. "Oh? And what exactly tipped you off?"
Kalem raised a finger. "First—your tendency to blow up lab equipment."
Jhaeros raised an eyebrow. "That's… not exactly rare in alchemy."
Kalem smirked. "No, but replacing it over and over? That's not something an ordinary student can afford. Lab equipment is expensive, and Lyra goes through it like it's nothing."
Nara snickered. "He's got a point."
Kalem continued. "Second—your extensive knowledge of rare materials. That's not something most students pick up unless they've had access to formal education or a direct connection to alchemical research. Since no organization would employ someone our age, that leaves one possibility."
The group fell silent as realization set in.
Kalem tilted his head. "So? Was I wrong?"
Lyra sighed, rubbing her temples. "No. You weren't. My family is from the Western Alchemical Council. My father is… important there."
Kalem nodded as if he had expected that answer. "Makes sense."
Lyra frowned at him. "Wait. If you figured this out before, why didn't you say anything?"
Kalem shrugged. "Didn't seem important."
Nara burst out laughing. "Wow. He figured out you're a noble and just… didn't care."
Jhaeros smirked. "That sounds about right."
Lyra looked at Kalem for a moment before sighing. He wasn't wrong, but the casual way he brushed it off was frustrating. Most people either fawned over noble heritage or treated it like some scandalous secret—Kalem did neither.
She exhaled. "Well… since you already know, yes. My family is probably here. But I really don't want to see them."
Kalem tilted his head. "That bad?"
Lyra hesitated. "Not exactly. It's just… they expect too much. And if they find out I've been spending all my time blowing up labs instead of focusing on 'proper alchemy'… well, let's just say, I'd rather avoid that conversation."
Kalem nodded, understanding.
Nara smirked. "If they find us, I'll make sure to tell them all about your legendary explosions."
Lyra groaned. "I hate you."
Jhaeros chuckled. "This tournament is going to be interesting."
The Weight of the Tournament
As they reached the academy's training grounds, the energy was electric. Students sparred, tested enchantments, and prepared their strategies. Even those who weren't participating in the combat trials were engaged in some form of preparation.
Kalem stood at the edge of the field, watching a group of warriors clash. Each strike of their weapons left behind traces of magical energy, lingering in the air like embers.
"It's different, huh?" Jhaeros said, stepping beside him.
Kalem nodded. "This isn't like the fights we've had before. Everyone here is aiming to prove something."
Nara stretched her arms. "I hope you're not getting nervous now, Kalem."
He smirked. "No. Just… thinking."
The tournament wasn't just about skill—it was a stage, and every eye would be watching.
For Kalem, it wasn't about prestige or proving himself to some noble audience.
It was about seeing how far he had come.