RISE OF THE SWARM

The dining hall wasn't really a hall, it felt more like a giant cave of wealth, a place built just to show the empires endless power. The roof was so high it was lost in shadow and held up by pillars of pale green jade shaped into phoenixes their wings stretched wide as if ready to fly. The walls carried tapestries so huge and full of detail they told whole historys—the start of the capital, the binding of the old titans, the crowning of the first Aurelion. Between them tall windows of colored glass spilled patches of red, blue, green, and gold light onto the black, shiny obsidian floor.

The table ran almost the whole length of the cavern. Dark wood, so old it looked older than the empire itself. Liam thought it looked like a river frozen in place. The people at the far end looked tiny, like toys. The feast that covered the table was so much that it made him dizzy. Roasted birds with skins shiny with honey and strange spices. Fish lay whole their scales gleaming like silver and gold coins. Bread still steaming and smelling of herbs and sun. Fruits he couldn't even name, twisted purple melons, clusters of berries that glowed faintly as if they held moonlight inside them.

Liam sat stiff. He felt like a blot of ink on a white page, out of place among the silks and gold plates. He was between Merlin and an empty chair where Evelyn had been earlier. At the far end Empress Juliana sat by the Emperor. She moved with grace each motion small and neat. Her violet eyes flicked to Liam now and then like she was studdying him in silence.

A servent in white clothes set a bowl of soup infront of him. Liam froze. All the cutlery lined beside the plate, more forks and spoons then he had ever seen in his life. Cold panic rose in him.

Merlin leaned close "Outside in lad. Watch me if you forget, its not half as serious as they act."

Grateful Liam lifted the outer spoon. The soup was creamy full of mushroom flavor richer then any stew he had known. He almost slurped but forced himself to stop. He broke bread with his hands untill he noticed others using small knifes so he copied them his fingers clumsy.

The main dish was meat so soft it fell apart under his fork. It came with tiny vegtables that burst with taste in his mouth. He ate and ate untill his stomach hurt. Hunger turned to warmth, then to heavy comfort. In his village a good meal was stew and bread. This was art, this was power served on plates.

Talk at the table was soft. The Emperor asked Merlin about the Krazian raids names and places Liam couldnt follow. The Empress spoke less but when she did all fell quiet. She turned to Liam asking simple things about herbs in his garden. She lead him away from danger words like magic and prophecy. He found himself talking about sun lemon thyme, moon silver basil, even the way roots grew better in shaded soil. To his suprise she listend as if his words were precious.

Evelyn did not return.

After the pale pudding dessert the Emperor wiped his mouth and his gaze fixed on Liam. The easy air was gone. His words came like stone.

"The Academy awaits. The term begun already but you will enter now. Merlin will go with you as sponsor and teacher."

Liams heart hammered. The Academy. It was happening.

"The seal my wife placed is only for a short time. It will hold untill you reach the grounds. After that it is yours and Merlins task. You must learn control, you must learn purpose. The world cannot wait."

It was not request it was command. Liam nodded unable to speak.

Merlin stood, tall, shadows seeming to fold around him. "Come lad. Best way to travel on a full belly is portal travel. Builds character."

They left the grand hall not with guards but with Prince Cassian who walked beside them his staff tapping the obsidian floor.

"The main gate nexus will refuse outside jumps" Cassian said. "Too many incidents before. But the Headmaster's tower stays open for urgent travel. I've sent word he knows your coming." Cassian glanced at Liam foxlike smile on his lips. "Try not to ruin his rug. Its older then the Cataclysm."

They passed narrower halls plain stone walls, no shine only function. At last they came to a round chamber. A silver ring was set in the floor its runes glowing white.

"Stand in the middle," Cassian said "Its only a short hop, you wont feel it." Then added "Theoretically."

Liam felt his throat dry. He remembered the last gate, the screaming power that almost tore him apart.

Merlin placed his hand on Liams shoulder. "Remember lad. Fear locks it. Confidence is the key. This is small, nothing more. Your power is part of you it cant hurt you unless you beleive it can."

Liam breathed deep. He thought of the Empress calm touch, her soft voice asking about herbs, of the strange glowing berries he tasted. He had stepped into wonders already this was just another step.

He nodded, stepped into the ring.

Cassian drew quick signs with his hand the runes flared bright.

The world blinked. Pressure squeezed him through a key hole, then gone. No sickness only a stumble forward.

He stood in a new room. The air smelled of books, lemon polish, faint sharp magic. Shelfs heavy with leather books climbed to the high roof. A window showed towers, green courts, lakes glowing under twilight.

elegant spires of pale stone, and a large, still lake that mirrored the twilight sky, its surface glowing with the last hues of violet and orange.

Before Liam could fully absorb the view, his attention was snatched by the room's centerpiece: a colossal, mahogany desk so cluttered with teetering stacks of books, astrolabes, crystal orbs, and half-unrolled scrolls that it seemed a miracle it didn't collapse. And behind it, rising from a high-backed chair of dark velvet, was a woman.

She was, without question, the most stunning person Liam had ever seen. Her hair was a cascade of night-black silk, falling over shoulders draped in robes of deep amethyst that seemed to drink the light. Her eyes, the colour of warmed honey, were large and slightly tilted, framed by lashes so long they cast shadows on her high cheekbones. Her lips were a perfect, crimson bow. She moved with a languid, predatory grace that made the very air seem to still around her.

"You," she said, her voice a low, melodic purr that vibrated in Liam's bones. It was a sound that promised secrets and whispered midnight confessions, but was currently sharpened to a razor's edge. "You finally decide to grace us with your presence. And on my best rug. Again." She glanced down at the intricate, obviously ancient Persian carpet beneath the silver portal ring. A wisp of smoke was still curling from its center.

Merlin, utterly unfazed, gave a casual shrug that made his own travel-worn cloak rustle. "Morwenna. Still fussing over floor coverings, I see. Some things never change. The rug'll be fine. It's seen worse from me."

"That is not the comfort you seem to think it is," Morwenna replied, her honeyed eyes narrowing. She leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the desk, and the movement was hypnotic. "I have been managing this academy—your academy—for six months. Six months, Merlin! With no word, no sending, not a single cryptic note! The Board of Regents is breathing down my neck, the Krazian exchange students nearly incinerated the east wing in a duel, and the plumbing in the alchemy labs has started singing show tunes! And you just… pop back in. As if you'd only been gone for a afternoon stroll."

The revelation hit Liam like a physical blow. Merlin was the Headmaster? The scruffy, irreverent man who drank cheap wine and called him 'lad' was in charge of this… this palace of learning?

Merlin had the decency to look slightly abashed. "I was on imperial business, Mor. Dire stuff. World-ending, you know how it is. Knew I was leaving the place in the most capable hands in the realm."

"Do not 'Mor' me," she snapped, the purr now a full-grown snarl. "I am not your familiar to be patted on the head and left with a pile of paperwork! This institution is not an inn for you to use as a base for your… your vagrant adventures!" Her gaze, furious and dismissive, flicked over Liam, taking in his simple, coarse-spun tunic, his too-short sleeves, the sheer provinciality that clung to him like dust.

Liam felt himself shrink. He was a grubby moth that had suddenly fluttered into a orchid house, and the orchid was furious.

Merlin, however, expanded to fill the space. "Which is why I'm back. With a new student. Priority contingent. Cassian sent word."

"Prince Cassian's missive said 'imminent arrival of a priority contingent'. It did not specify it was you," Morwenna said, her tone dripping with a sweetness that had gone violently sour. "We have a term schedule. Protocols. We don't just 'hop' students in mid-semester because the absentee Headmaster has a whim." Her gaze settled more intently on Liam, her head tilting. "Speaking of which. Which house do you hail from, boy? I don't recognize the… aesthetic. Is this some new rustic fashion from the Western Marches? Or perhaps one of the lesser Silvian branches?"

The question, so casually cruel, struck Liam dumb. His mouth went dry. He could feel the weight of her expectation, the assumption as solid as the jade pillars in the dining hall. He opened his mouth, but only a faint, strangled sound emerged. His face heated with a flush of shame.

Morwenna's perfectly sculpted eyebrows drew together. She took a step closer, her honey-colored eyes scanning him not with magic, but with a devastating social acuity. She saw the way his hands, calloused and rough, clenched at his sides. She saw the cheap, poorly dyed wool of his tunic, the lack of any sigil, the utter absence of noble bearing. Her expression shifted from impatient curiosity to dawning, horrified comprehension.

"He's not," she breathed, her voice losing all its purr, becoming flat and cold. She turned her head slowly, her glare aimed at Merlin like a crossbow bolt. "Tell me you did not. Merlin. Tell me you have not brought a commoner into the Aurelian Imperial Academy."

Merlin's cheerful facade tightened almost imperceptibly. "His name is Liam. And he is here by the Emperor's—"

"I don't care if he's here by the grace of the Sun God himself!" she interrupted, her voice rising, sharp and clear in the vast room. "This is not some charitable foundling hospital! This is the institution that has educated the scions of the great houses for a thousand years! The Blackwoods, the Ravenholds, the Aurelians themselves! Their children are in these halls! They learn statecraft and high magic alongside their peers. They do not… mingle with peasants pulled from the mud!"

Each word was a lash. Commoner. Peasant. Mud. Liam felt each one land, burning with a humiliation deeper than any fear the portal had caused.

"He has no mana core," Morwenna pressed on, her argument gaining steam, fueled by sheer outrage. "He has no name, no house, no connections! What exactly is your plan, Headmaster? To have him sit in on Etiquette and Embroidery? To have the son of a duke or the daughter of a high marshal partner with him in elemental practicums? They will eat him alive. The parents will have my head. They will have your head, and then they will burn this office to the ground! This is not one of your jokes, Merlin!"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Merlin's voice cut through her tirade, low and devoid of all its earlier humor. The air in the room grew heavy. "This is not a social experiment, Morwenna. This is a direct command from the Golden Throne. He is under the Empress's personal seal. He is my personal charge. His potential is not of a kind you can measure with your old-world scrying."

Morwenna stared at him, her chest rising and falling with indignant breaths. The professional curiosity was now entirely buried under layers of aristocratic fury and bureaucratic panic. "His potential? What potential? To cause a diplomatic incident? To become a target? You are placing a lamb in a den of wolves and then walking away, just as you always do!"

"He is here to learn," Merlin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And he will learn. Enroll him."

The silence that followed was frigid. Morwenna's beautiful face was a mask of controlled fury. She looked from Merlin's unyielding expression to Liam's mortified one. Finally, she turned her back on them both, her robes swirling dramatically.

"Fine," she bit out the word. "Let the Emperor's will be done. Let the chaos commence." She snatched a small, silver bell from her desk and rang it with a force that seemed to make the crystal chime shiver in protest.

A moment later, a door hidden between two bookshelves opened, and a young woman in the grey robes of a senior student entered, her expression efficient and neutral.

"Deputy Headmistress?" the student said, bowing her head slightly.

"Elara," Morwenna said, her voice cold and clipped. She did not turn around. "This is Liam. He is a… special admission. See that he is taken to the registrar. Use the late-entry forms. Then take him to the vacant room in the first-year boys' tower. The one by the stairs. It's dreadfully noisy. It will suffice."

The instructions were clear: he was to be processed and stored away, given the least desirable room available. A commoner's room.

Merlin sighed. "I'll handle the paperwork in the morning. Try not to scare him off before then."

"I make no promises, Headmaster," Morwenna said, the title sounding like a curse. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an academy to actually run and a hundred letters of outrage to draft for the Board. We can discuss the six months of backlogged decisions—and this insanity—at your convenience. Which I assume will be never."

"I knew I could count on you," Merlin said, a fraction of his old cheer returning. He turned to Liam, his expression softening. "Go on, lad. Do as she says. Get settled in. I'll find you in the morning. Remember what I said. Confidence." He gave Liam's shoulder a final, reassuring squeeze before turning and strolling out the same hidden door, leaving Liam alone with the livid Deputy Headmistress and the silent student.

Morwenna finally looked over her shoulder, her honey-gold eyes meeting Liam's. There was no warmth there, only a frosty, unnerving calculation.

"Welcome to the Aurelian Academy, Liam," she said, her voice a smooth, venomous purr. "Try not to break anything. Or get broken. We value our… traditions here."

Elara gestured for Liam to follow her. "This way, please."

With a final, helpless glance around the immense, book-lined office, Liam turned and followed the grey-robed student out, leaving the seething witch behind him. The heavy door clicked shut, closing off one world of overwhelming opulence and opening onto another—one of looming towers, strange magic, ancient nobility, and the daunting, terrifying promise of the Academy. He wasn't just a student; he was an anomaly, an insult to tradition, a lamb in a den of wolves. His new life had begun