I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching out the knots in my muscles. I have 20 DP now, which isn't much, but it's a start. Hidden features remain locked—likely a shop or skill library I can access later when I accumulate enough points or complete certain quests. I'll have to be patient for those. For now, the path forward is clear: I need to integrate into the academy, stay close to those five key individuals, and figure out how to strengthen them (and thus earn more Destiny Points).
A self-deprecating smirk found its way onto my face as I splashed my face with water from the basin. In short, I must play both the villain and guardian angel. The thought was both intriguing and heavy. I'll help them reach their potential, but I might have to make them hate me to do it. They already distrust me after yesterday—an unknown from a disgraced house coming out of nowhere to claim the top spot. No doubt rumors were spreading through the student body like wildfire last night.
I dressed quickly in the academy's uniform: a high-collared black coat with silver trim, matching trousers, and sturdy boots. A silver emblem pin – the crest of the Aurelia Academy – glinted on my left chest. The uniform was well-tailored, surprisingly comfortable, and it lent every student a dignified appearance. In the mirror, I looked just like any other noble student except for one detail: the Ravenheart eyes.
Staring back at me were irises of a peculiar purple, ringed with a faint line of black. It was a distinctive trait of House Ravenheart, one of the reasons people could guess my lineage on sight. House Ravenheart… A faint memory of this body's past surfaced: hushed conversations, pitying looks, the word "traitors" whispered behind fans at banquets. My family name wasn't one spoken with admiration in these halls of power. Once, the Ravenheart line had been counted among the Great Houses, but that was long ago. A scandal involving dark magic and an alleged betrayal of the crown had left my family stripped of its title and influence. We survived as a lesser house on the fringes of nobility—tolerated, but not truly accepted.
That legacy suited me just fine. It provided the perfect cover—people's prejudice would make them keep their distance. No one would suspect my true intentions if they all believed I was just a scheming raven in the rafters.
Satisfied that I was presentable, I stepped out into the corridor. The dormitory for first-year students was buzzing with activity now. Dozens of youths, each wearing the same black and silver uniform, milled about or headed toward the dining hall for breakfast. Some walked in groups of friends or housemates; others hurried along solo. As I locked my door and made my way down the hall, a few pairs of eyes flicked toward me. Recognition sparked, followed by quick whispers.
"That's him, the top ranker—"
"—the Ravenheart boy, right? I heard he's some kind of dark arts prodigy."
"Keep your voice down! We shouldn't mingle with the likes of him…"
I pretended not to hear any of it, maintaining a calm, aloof expression. Just keep walking. I'd expected this reaction. Noble society is quick to ostracize those of ill repute, and a once-traitorous house's scion making waves was prime gossip. It didn't help that I'd kept to myself during yesterday's exam and barely spoke a word to anyone. To them, I must seem arrogant or secretive—probably both.
I emerged into the bright courtyard that connected the dorms to the main academy building. The sky was a clear eggshell blue, and the morning air carried the scent of dew-laden grass. Students flowed toward the dining hall on the east side of the courtyard. I followed at a measured pace, enjoying the fresh air while mentally bracing myself to face the five destined ones in a social setting. No doubt they'll be there.
Sure enough, as I entered the grand dining hall—a vaulted chamber with long banquet tables—I spotted a cluster of familiar figures at one of the tables near the center. There they were: Leon Drakos, tall and broad-shouldered, his golden-brown hair shining almost like a mane in the morning sun, sat with arms crossed and a deep frown on his face. To his right was Fiona Grimstone, easily recognizable by her short auburn hair and the confident, almost aggressive set of her jaw as she spoke. Across from Fiona sat Damien Allcrest, his posture straight and composed, dark blue robes worn under his academy coat (marking him as a mage student) and a book at his elbow. Next to Damien was Selene Nightshade—slim and pale, with long raven-black hair and an unreadable expression; she picked at her food silently, her sharp eyes flicking about the hall as if noting everything. And at the head of that section of the table was Neria Solandis, gently smiling as she poured tea for herself and Selene. Her light-blonde hair cascaded in soft waves, and she wore a subtle golden pendant of the sun—her family crest—around her neck.
They sat together naturally, an assembly of the elite. Five scions of five Great Houses. It was only missing the sixth—well, me. But a Ravenheart at that table would be unthinkable to them. A year ago, before I came into this world, these five probably met at royal functions or tournaments, friendly rivals perhaps. Now the atmosphere at that table looked anything but friendly. Leon's scowl was directed down at his untouched plate, and Fiona was gesturing animatedly, her voice carrying across the hall.
I didn't need enhanced senses to catch what she said: "—just don't buy it, Leon. You should have been first. Something's fishy about that Asmo guy." Fiona stabbed a piece of fruit with her fork almost as if imagining it was my face.
Leon exhaled, clearly frustrated. "Whether it's fishy or not, the results are there." He sounded bitter. "I underestimated him… That won't happen again." The way he clenched his fist on the table made his resolve obvious. I could practically see the aura around him flare for an instant with indignation. Leon was proud—raised his whole life to believe he'd lead his generation. My entry had thrown him off course.
Good. I felt a twinge of guilt at deriving satisfaction from Leon's distress, but that was quickly tempered by my understanding of what it meant. If Leon Drakos is truly determined to surpass me now, he'll push himself to new heights. That's the kind of growth the system wants to see. And in the end, Leon will become stronger for the challenges I present. Better to have a bruised ego now than to fall when the world truly needs him. I told myself that, and it made the guilt a little easier to swallow.
I kept a neutral face as I walked further into the hall, taking an empty seat at a less crowded table adjacent to theirs. A few students beside me nervously shifted away, as if I carried a plague. I ignored them and began selecting some food from the platters at the center of the table—bread, cheese, a boiled egg. Normalcy. Blend in as much as possible.
At the next table, Fiona huffed. "If you ask me, he must have cheated somehow. Or had outside help. Nobody's heard of any Ravenheart being that strong. They're nearly magic-less, aren't they?"
"Oh?" Now that was interesting.