The journey to the academy would not be immediate. Ryn and the Stranger first needed to secure their entry—something that required careful planning.
The two walked through the darkened forest, their path illuminated only by slivers of moonlight cutting through the thick canopy above. The ruins behind them were now nothing more than a shadow in the distance.
"We'll need credentials," the Stranger said, breaking the silence. His mind was already working through possibilities. "Most reputable academies don't just accept anyone."
Ryn frowned. "And where do we get those? It's not like we can walk in and demand to be taught."
The Stranger smirked. "You're right. That's why we'll have to forge our way in. There are always ways around the rules."
The academy they had chosen—Ebonveil Academy—was one of the most prestigious in the region, a place where engraving masters and scholars alike gathered to push the limits of inscription-based power. It was a place of both opportunity and danger.
Ryn's fingers curled slightly. He still didn't understand the full extent of the glyph inside him, but something told him that if he wanted to master it, the academy was the best place to start.
"What about the entrance trials?" Ryn asked.
The Stranger's gaze was sharp. "We'll pass them. One way or another."
A faint smile played on Ryn's lips. He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to the challenge—or if he simply enjoyed watching the Stranger manipulate his way through obstacles.
As they neared the outskirts of a bustling city, their next step became clear. If they wanted entry into the academy, they would first need to find the right people to convince.
The path to power was never straightforward—but Ryn and the Stranger had never chosen the easy road.
The towering silhouette of Ebonveil Academy dominated the horizon, its spires reaching high above the surrounding city. Walls of polished black stone, etched with inscriptions that pulsed with faint light, marked the boundary between the outside world and the institution of knowledge and power within. The weight of history and tradition loomed over those who approached, a silent test of their resolve.
Ryn and the Stranger walked toward the entrance, their steps slow but steady. They had traveled far, fought and schemed their way through dangers unseen, and now, standing before these grand gates, they both knew—this was only the beginning.
Ahead of them, a large crowd had gathered. Some were dressed in fine robes, bearing symbols of noble houses, while others wore the plain garments of commoners. Yet here, status meant little. Before the academy, only talent mattered.
Above the entrance, a massive banner swayed in the wind, embroidered with golden script:
"Ebonveil Academy Entrance Examination – Open to All Under Sixteen."
Ryn's eyes widened slightly. "An entrance exam?"
"This makes things easier," The Stranger—murmured, though his tone remained unreadable.
The coincidence was almost too perfect. They had planned to find a way into the academy, whether through bribery, deception, or sheer force if necessary. But this—an open entrance exam—was an opportunity that had fallen right into their hands.
However, there was one problem left to resolve.
"I need a name," the Stranger said suddenly.
Ryn turned to him, frowning. "A name?"
"They'll ask for one at registration." The Stranger's voice was calm, but there was a cold edge to it. "I can't exactly write Stranger on their records."
Ryn considered this for a moment. It was true—after all this time traveling together, he had never once heard the Stranger introduce himself by any name. It was as though he had abandoned all ties to his past, shedding his former self like a snake shedding its skin.
But now, he had no choice.
The Stranger exhaled slowly, his gaze dark and contemplative.
"...Elias," he finally said.
Ryn raised an eyebrow. "That's your name?"
"It was," Elias muttered. His voice was steady, but something in his expression shifted—something distant, something haunted. "And now it will be again."
Ryn didn't pry. He had seen enough of Elias to know that his past was not one freely shared. Whatever the name Elias meant to him, it was his burden to carry.
With nothing more to say, they approached the examination grounds. A long registration table had been set up, where an official sat behind a thick wooden desk, quill in hand, recording the names of the examinees.
Some of those ahead of them in line carried engraved tools strapped to their belts, marking them as those who had already dabbled in the art of inscriptions. Others clutched scrolls, whispering hurriedly to themselves as they reviewed notes. The tension in the air was palpable.
When it was their turn, the registrar barely glanced up.
"Name?" he asked.
"Ryn."
The registrar scratched it down. "Age?"
"Fifteen."
Another scribble. "Next."
Elias stepped forward. His posture was composed, his voice calm but firm.
"Elias."
The registrar's quill hesitated for a fraction of a second before resuming. "Age?"
"Fifteen."
The man finished writing, then waved a hand dismissively. "You both qualify. Proceed to the testing grounds."
Ryn let out a breath as they stepped past the registration area. "That was easier than I expected," he muttered.
Elias smirked slightly. "It's only just begun."
The academy grounds were vast, a world unto themselves. Ancient pillars stood like sentinels, their surfaces covered in intricate engravings that pulsed faintly with inscriptions of long-dead masters. The main courtyard stretched ahead, where dozens of examinees gathered in clusters, waiting for the trials to begin.
In the distance, at the heart of the academy, a massive structure loomed—the Grand Engraving Hall. Within those walls, the true knowledge of inscriptions lay, waiting to be claimed by those deemed worthy.
Ryn clenched his fists. This was the first step toward power.
Elias, standing beside him, remained silent, his mind already moving several steps ahead. The academy was a necessary stepping stone, a place where he could gather information, sharpen his skills, and prepare for the greater conflicts to come.
Their fates had brought them here.
Now, they would carve their own path forward.
The first test of the academy had begun.