Beastbourne

The next morning, as the golden light of dawn streamed through the hospital windows, Hawkwing stirred in his bed. His body ached from the fight, but his mind was sharper than ever. He replayed the battle over and over, the sheer skill and restraint Kieran had displayed lingering in his thoughts.

Then, a soft rush of air caught his attention.

Hawkwing's eyes snapped open just in time to see Kieran land silently by the open window, his dark wings folding behind him.

The young hero sat up with a groan, rubbing his temples. "You again."

Kieran leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You're recovering faster than I expected."

Hawkwing huffed. "Didn't expect you to come back at all."

A knock sounded at the door, and a nurse peeked inside. "Mr. Hawkwing, the doctors wanted me to tell you that Lady Evelyn Fairmont has been found. It's all over the news. Some unknown hero saved her."

The nurse left before Hawkwing could respond. He turned to Kieran, narrowing his eyes. "That was you, wasn't it?"

Kieran didn't confirm nor deny it. Instead, he simply said, "She's safe now. That's what matters."

Hawkwing studied him for a moment. "You're not what I expected. Someone with your power could've killed me last night. But you didn't."

Kieran smirked faintly. "If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

There was a pause before Hawkwing asked, "Why did you go after those guys in the alley?"

Kieran's expression darkened slightly. "They were the ones who attacked Lady Evelyn. They weren't random thugs—they were worse."

Hawkwing frowned, running a hand through his messy blond hair. "I knew they weren't normal, but… if what you're saying is true, then I was wrong to get in your way."

Kieran didn't rub it in. He simply let the silence speak for itself.

Then, Hawkwing stood up, still wincing from his injuries. "Come with me. There's somewhere I want to take you."

Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"The Academy," Hawkwing said. "You don't have to do this alone. You have power—more power than most heroes I've ever met. If you trained, if you joined us, you could actually make a difference."

Kieran followed Hawkwing through the skies, the wind whipping against his face as they approached the Academy's headquarters—a colossal fortress of steel and glass, its towering spires piercing the sky like spears of judgment. From above, the campus looked like a city of its own, with vast training grounds, sprawling facilities, and heavily fortified walls that exuded absolute authority. The moment Kieran landed on the pristine white stone steps, he could feel it—the weight of scrutiny, the judgment of unseen eyes watching him from every direction.

Guards in high-tech armor patrolled the perimeter, their helmets scanning everything in sight. Automated defense systems whirred softly in the background, subtle reminders that this was more than just a place of learning—it was a fortress, a stronghold where only the worthy thrived.

The second Kieran's boots touched the ground, dozens of gazes locked onto him. Some were filled with curiosity, others with quiet hostility. Whispers rippled through the crowd as heroes-in-training paused in their routines to stare. Their uniforms were crisp, their posture disciplined, their eyes filled with purpose. But beneath the surface, Kieran could sense something else—competition. Caution. A readiness to fight if given the command. The moment Kieran landed on the pristine white stone steps, he could feel it—the weight of scrutiny, the judgment of unseen eyes watching him from every direction. He didn't belong here, and he knew it. Heroes-in-training moved with precision across the campus, their eyes locking onto Kieran with curiosity and caution. Some whispered, others averted their gaze, but a few clenched their fists, radiating hostility. Word had already spread—Kieran wasn't just a visitor. He was an anomaly.

Hawkwing walked ahead, keeping his pace steady, but Kieran could sense the tension in his posture. They moved through long corridors lined with towering statues of past heroes, their etched faces frozen in expressions of unwavering resolve. Portraits of champions adorned the walls, each name inscribed beneath in gold letters—a reminder that this was where legends were forged.

The deeper they went, the heavier the air became. The Academy wasn't just a school—it was a doctrine, a belief system built on ideals of justice and control. Kieran's every step felt like an intrusion, like a foreign force invading sacred ground. The weight of it pressed against him, but he remained unfazed. He had been judged before; this was nothing new. Eventually, they reached a set of massive double doors adorned with intricate carvings of celestial warriors battling against darkness. Hawkwing hesitated for a fraction of a second before pushing them open. The doors groaned as they parted, revealing the Council Chamber beyond.

Kieran stepped inside, immediately aware of how the very air shifted. The room was enormous, its high ceiling stretching above a semi-circle of elevated seats where the Academy's elite sat in judgment. Banners of past victories lined the walls, and at the center, a circular platform stood—the stage for those who would be judged.

As soon as Kieran crossed the threshold, the murmurs began. They spoke in hushed but firm tones, voices sharp with analysis. "So this is him..." "The rogue Beastborne..." "He carries the mark of something ancient..." They weren't just watching him. They were dissecting him.

The moment Kieran stepped inside the Council Chamber, the very air changed. The room was vast, its walls lined with banners of past heroes, and at the center stood the Academy's elite—commanders, strategists, and enforcers of justice. They didn't just watch him; they assessed him, their gazes sharp, dissecting. The tension was thick, suffocating. Kieran had walked into a den of wolves, and he was the unwelcome intruder.

At the head of the chamber, a man with graying hair and piercing blue eyes rose from his seat. His uniform was pristine, adorned with medals of past victories. Chairman Alexander Graves.

"This is him," Graves said, his voice even yet authoritative. "The rogue Beastborne. The anomaly. The man who walks between predator and prey."

Hawkwing raised his chin. "He saved Lady Evelyn. He took me to the hospital. He's not a villain."

The Council members exchanged glances.

"Then why does he refuse to stand with us?" another asked, his voice sharp.

Kieran let out a slow breath. "Because I don't follow orders. I don't take sides. I do what needs to be done."

The room erupted into hushed murmurs. Some of the council members exchanged skeptical glances; others looked ready to pass judgment on the spot. One woman, her uniform bearing the insignia of the disciplinary unit, leaned forward. "You let him walk in here? The man who defied our first invitation?"

"You would rather remain lawless?" the older hero questioned.

Kieran met his gaze without flinching. "I'd rather remain free."

Graves let the silence stretch, watching Kieran carefully before he finally spoke. "Kieran Vale, you stand before the highest council of Argos Academy, an institution built to uphold order in a world threatened by chaos. And yet, you reject our hand. You refuse to stand with us. Tell me, then—what do you stand for?"

"If you will not join us," the hero declared, "then you are against us."

The room's atmosphere became suffocating. Kieran could feel the weight of their collective judgment pressing down on him.

Hawkwing took a step forward, hesitation in his stance. "Kieran, listen to them. You don't have to be alone in this. You could do good here. We could do it together."

Kieran met his gaze, and for the first time, there was something almost apologetic in his expression. "I don't doubt that you believe in this place, Hawkwing. But I've seen what happens when power is given a leash. I won't be controlled. Not by them. Not by anyone."

But Kieran shook his head. "I already have."

Kieran took a slow step back, his wings stretching outward. The guards along the perimeter tensed, but no one made a move yet—perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps because they were waiting for Graves' command.

"So be it," Graves finally said, his voice carrying a chilling finality. "If you will not stand with us, then you stand against us. From this moment forward, you are a marked enemy of Argos Academy.

Before anyone could act, the doors to the chamber burst open.

A regal presence filled the room as Lord Edwin Fairmont, head of the Fairmont family, stepped inside, flanked by elite guards. Beside him stood Lady Evelyn, her expression calm but unwavering. She stepped forward, her silver gown shimmering under the chamber's lights, her voice ringing with quiet authority.

"If anyone touches Kieran Vale," Lord Fairmont's voice was low and deliberate, but it carried the weight of absolute power, "this Academy will be destroyed in seconds."

The room froze. Even Chairman Graves hesitated, his usual commanding presence momentarily challenged.

Evelyn took another step closer, her blind eyes searching as she reached out, her hands brushing against the air, looking for him. The entire room watched in silence as her fingers finally found him, grazing his arm. The moment she touched him, a quiet gasp left her lips—she knew. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, as if reassuring herself that he was real. For a moment, Kieran stood still, surprised by the warmth of her embrace. Then, slowly, he lifted his arms and hugged her back, his wings unfurling just enough to envelop them both, shielding them from the cold stares of the room. In that moment, there was no council, no academy, no threats—only the quiet understanding between them. "He saved my life. And now, I stand with him."

Silence stretched thick between them all, a moment where power, influence, and conviction clashed in an unspoken battle."