“Welcome to the Elite academy,” the principal’s voice carried over the training yard, sharp as steel. “Or welcome to your last days. Five years from now, only the worthy will remain.”

We stood in perfect formations, rows of black uniforms gleaming under the pale light. Silence clung to the air, broken only by the weight of his words. Some swallowed nervously; others lifted their chins like martyrs. I? I simply stared ahead, fire curling in my palms—hidden, burning me as much as it could burn them.

Most people avoid me. I would avoid me too. Hell region? Yeah. That cursed land where the soil never cools, where ash paints the horizon, where noble houses thrive in smoke and blood. My father’s a viscount there. Meiris. The name makes others step back like I carry the plague. Maybe they’re not wrong. Fire’s a dangerous gift. It eats flesh as easily as it obeys.

I’ve only got a handful of allies from Hell. Sareth, with his power of shadows—he can slip inside darkness and vanish, though it drains him like poison. Kael, whose voice alone can twist a man’s mind, but he risks shattering his own sanity each time. Friends, maybe. Or demons I’ll burn beside when the time comes.

They say the eight kings built Elite Academy—Aretia, the neutral ground—so we’d stand equal, stripped of crowns and bloodlines. Day with their blinding radiance. Night with their whispers of death. Sky, arrogant with wings and storm-callers. Spring and Summer, painted in renewal and flame of life. Winter, cold as their frozen spires. And Hell—us. The cursed region no one dares name without a prayer on their lips. Equal, they claim. A lie. Even here, the shadow of our realms stalks us.

The speech ended, and formations broke. Boots scraped the stone paths as we moved toward the dormitories, a stream of black uniforms. Rules already carved into our minds: no powers outside training. But I don’t care.. if no one’s watching, then why I shouldn’t use it?

I rounded a corner, half lost in thought, and something collided into me. Hard enough to jolt the smoldering heat in my veins. My gaze snapped down—dark, unyielding.

A stranger.

You.

My fire stirred, dangerous and eager. For a breath, the world narrowed to your eyes locked with mine, unflinching.

I let the silence hang, oppressive, then spoke low, like a promise or a threat.

“Keep staring, and you’ll burn faster than the rest.”