THE AETHERBORN

Thorne followed Sid through the streets of Alvar, trying to hold back his curiosity, but questions kept flying out of his mouth. "Where are we going? Why can't you just tell me? Is Uncle really waiting for us?"

Sid never once answered, only smirking and chuckling evilly, clearly enjoying Thorne's frustration. As they marched towards the center of the city, the small winding roads turned into bustling, well-maintained streets. Thorne's curiosity turned into apprehension. He spotted several guards and tried to make himself as small as possible, keeping his head down to avoid being recognized from the previous night's incident.

They reached a crossroad where traffic stopped, and a pair of guards blocked the way. Thorne had had enough. His new skill, Escape Artist, activated, showing him the perfect way to flee and blend into the crowd. Just as he was about to slip away, Sid cuffed him on the head and pulled him forward. Thorne whined and tried to get away, but Sid's grip was as if made of iron.

The two guards gave them a cursory glance and let them pass, leaving Thorne more confused than ever. "Where the hell are we going?" Thorne demanded, finally able to pull away from Sid. His eyes darted everywhere, trying to spot any danger. The only thing he saw were well-maintained buildings, clean streets, and elegant shops and restaurants.

"I already told you!" Sid exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "We are going to meet Uncle!"

Thorne debated whether all this was an elaborate plan from Sid, a new kind of test or training. Not knowing what else to do, he followed after the man, sulking all the way.

They continued through the affluent part of the city, where the streets were paved with smooth cobblestones and the buildings were adorned with intricate carvings and colorful facades. The hustle and bustle of the morning crowd filled the air with a lively hum. Thorne's eyes flitted from one corner to another, every now and then catching sight of something that made him uneasy—a glint of a guard's armor, a shadowy figure slipping into an alleyway.

Sid led him to a grand building, far different from the decrepit hideouts Thorne was used to. Its tall, arched windows and ornate doors suggested wealth and importance. Sid finally stopped and turned to Thorne, a smirk still playing on his lips.

"Here we are," he said.

Thorne looked up at the imposing structure, trying to make sense of it all. "Why here?" he asked, suspicion coloring his voice.

"You'll see," Sid replied, pushing open the heavy door and gesturing for Thorne to follow.

Inside, the grandeur continued. The lobby was spacious and well-lit, with polished marble floors and high ceilings adorned with chandeliers. Thorne couldn't help but feel out of place in such opulence.

Sid led him through a series of hallways until they reached a large, richly furnished office. Behind a massive mahogany desk sat Uncle, looking as composed and enigmatic as ever. His sharp eyes immediately fixed on Thorne, assessing him with a gaze that seemed to pierce right through him.

"Thorne," Uncle said, his voice calm and measured. "I've been expecting you."

Thorne's heart pounded in his chest. He knew he had to be careful, to reveal just enough to satisfy Uncle's curiosity while keeping the most crucial details to himself. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, ready to face whatever came next.

"Good morning, Uncle," Thorne said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Uncle gestured for Thorne to sit down.

Thorne sat down, unable to help looking around the lavishly decorated room. The expensive furniture, the bookcases laden with heavy books, and the items humming with aether were all so different from what he was used to. They looked nothing like what he had expected from Uncle's house. The man sitting behind the elegant desk seemed out of place with his rough features, simple clothes, and the red scar that ran down his face. Thorne had trouble reconciling the man he had known for the past year with the one sitting in front of him.

Uncle, seeing his surprised face, chuckled good-naturedly. After a pause, the man said, "I was worried about you." He drew Thorne's attention back to him. "But I see, I shouldn't have. You truly are one sneaky rascal."

He smiled fondly at Thorne, but the boy noticed a fleeting look the two older men shared. Thorne was acutely aware of Sid's presence behind him, instincts from their training had him always tracking the man's whereabouts.

"So? Tell me, shortie, what happened last night?" Uncle asked.

Thorne recounted a shortened version of what had happened. How he had heard whispers from the fish market about the merchant's arrival and his meeting with the noble. How he had followed them to the lord's estate and eavesdropped on their conversation. He left out any mention of the oldbone, focusing more on the details about the deal between the two, which, given the excited glint in his uncle's eyes, was what he was more interested in.

Uncle didn't interrupt or ask any questions until Thorne was finished. Then, he peppered him with questions that had Thorne's heart racing. He always did that, starting with innocent questions and then focusing on details that seemed unimportant at first, but in the end proved to be crucial.

At some point, his uncle asked him point-blank, "And you have no idea what the merchant carried or to whom he gave it?"

Thorne's acting skill activated, painting a guilty frown on his face. Words flew out of his mouth before his mind could process them, "Sorry, Uncle. Lord Durnell dragged the merchant inside the moment he started talking about his deal with the king. I tried to follow them, but the moment I stepped foot on that balcony, this magic thing started blaring noise and guards swarmed the place!"

Thorne peered at his uncle with a fearful expression and saw the older man analyzing his every word, his every movement, as if he was trying to unravel a very complicated riddle. Finally, the man nodded, and Thorne wanted to sigh in relief.

He relaxed somewhat when he saw Uncle get lost in his own thoughts. He waited patiently, wringing his small hands together, anxious even though he had passed through the worst. He wanted to ask a million questions, but he was afraid that any question would reveal something he had hidden. Still, he couldn't wait any longer, and the question flew out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "What is the Academy?"

His uncle's heavy gaze zeroed in on him like a physical weight, and Thorne had to restrain himself from flinching. "Why do you ask?"

Thorne heard a rustle from behind him and remembered Sid was lurking behind him. He gulped and opened his mouth to respond. For a few short seconds, he hesitated, but he knew that now that he had mentioned the Academy, he had to offer some more information, but in a way that wasn't suspicious. In the end, he decided to play dumb.

"I overheard the merchant mention it," Thorne said, forcing a casual tone. "He seemed scared when he talked about it. I just thought it might be important."

Uncle's gaze didn't waver. "And in what context did you hear him mention the Academy?"

Thorne's mind raced. He needed to be careful, to give just enough information to satisfy his uncle without revealing too much. "He was talking about some deal with Lord Durnell. He said something about the Academy but didn’t give any details."

Uncle leaned back in his chair, considering Thorne's words. "The Academy is indeed a place of great power and learning. It’s the most renown school of magic. Only a select few are taken there."

Thorne feigned wide-eyed innocence. "Oh, I see. So, it's like a school for mages?"

Uncle's eyes narrowed slightly. "More than just a school. It is a place where the most powerful and knowledgeable gather. Only nobles and those that can afford the extraordinary fees can attend the school. Why would a simple merchant be discussing such a thing with Lord Durnell?"

Thorne shrugged, keeping his expression as blank as possible. "I'm not sure. Maybe he was trying to impress the lord. He seemed pretty desperate to make a deal."

His uncle remained silent for long moments, making Thorne squirm in his seat. Then he saw him give an imperceptible nod, and Thorne heard a rustle of fabric behind him and the faint creaking of the door as Sid disappeared. Thorne turned around only to see that they were finally alone in the room. When he looked back at his uncle, the man was wearing an intense look on his face.

"I have to admit, shortie, the information you gave me is very valuable. You truly have a talent for spying." The man’s voice was calm, but the weight behind his words made Thorne straighten. He waited, unsure of how to respond. His uncle, though, was waiting for something. Thorne, not knowing what else to do, simply nodded.

Uncle gave a satisfied smile before continuing. "Sid will be a little harsher on you during your training for the next few days. You managed to find out what his friends failed to do. You weren’t the only one tasked with finding out the reason for the merchant’s arrival, you know. But you were the only one who succeeded." He paused, letting the words sink in. "So, ask me anything you want."

Thorne's mind raced. He could ask for food, new clothes, or even toys, but all of those seemed insignificant now. There was only one thing he really wanted—information. Something deeper than the simple pleasures he could request. He hesitated, wetting his lips before speaking.

"Uncle," he began cautiously, "do you mind telling me more about the Academy?"

The shift in the room was subtle, but Thorne felt it immediately. His uncle’s face remained neutral, but the intensity of his gaze sharpened, as if he was peering into Thorne’s very thoughts. "What do you want to know?" he asked, his voice calm but with an undercurrent that suggested this was not a question taken lightly.

Thorne fidgeted slightly, unsure if he was treading dangerous ground. "I don’t know," he replied, playing it off with a shrug. "A magic school sounds... fascinating."

He caught the way his uncle’s eyes flickered with something—was it suspicion? Curiosity? Whatever it was, it passed quickly, leaving only that familiar, calculating gaze. "You have to understand, Thorne," Uncle began, leaning back slightly, "mages are exceedingly rare. They can also become incredibly powerful. What few people realize is that most can learn simple spells..." His voice trailed off, and Thorne’s eyes snapped up to meet his.

Simple spells? Thorne had never imagined that regular people could wield magic. "But," Uncle continued, a small smile creeping onto his lips, "few have the potential to truly master the art. The Academy is unlike any other place. There are hundreds of magic schools, but they all defer to the status and power of the Academy. It’s where all magical innovations happen. Where the most powerful mages train. Where kings and queens send their children not just to learn magic, but to form alliances, treaties, and... connections."

Thorne’s heart raced as his uncle’s words painted a vivid picture of the Academy. He had never thought of it as more than a distant, unreachable place. But now... His uncle’s descriptions were full of weight and consequence.

"The true power resides there," Uncle added, his voice lowering. "Kingdoms depend on the Academy for their next generation of heroes. A single mage trained at the Academy could annihilate an entire army."

Thorne’s mind spun. He couldn’t help but compare himself to the mages his uncle was describing. Could his own magic ever compare? His mother had always told him that his abilities were powerful—special, even—but he had never imagined wiping out armies. A single use of the aether often left him weak, barely able to stand.

Still, if he could learn even a fraction of what those mages knew, maybe he would be safe. It wasn’t just about power—it was about survival. If he learned regular magic, like any other student at the Academy, he could hide in plain sight. No one would suspect him of being something... more.

But more than anything, it was Bea that tugged at his heart. The Academy was his only lead if he ever wanted to find his sister. He was sure of it—when they captured her, they must have taken her there. The thought of her alone, trapped, drove his decision.

One thing was clear in his mind, he would find a way to the Academy, no matter what it took.

A deep chuckle from behind him snapped him out of his thoughts. Thorne tensed as he recognized Sid’s voice, dripping with mockery. "Shortie really liked what he heard about the Academy." Sid’s tone was full of contempt, and Thorne gritted his teeth as the rogue sauntered back into the room, his movements deliberate and obnoxious. Thorne hadn’t even heard him come in.

Sid’s grin widened. "Would you like my lord to take you there? Maybe in a magical carriage or on a flying mount, eh?" He gave an exaggerated, flourishing bow, the sneer in his voice barely hidden.

Thorne forced himself to remain silent, his fists clenched tight at his sides. He wouldn't rise to Sid’s bait, no matter how badly he wanted to. Sid seemed to revel in pushing him, waiting for a reaction. But this time, Thorne refused to give him the satisfaction.

Sid's smirk faded slightly when Thorne didn’t respond, and with a dramatic sigh, he waved his hand. "It’s time for you to leave, kid," Sid said, his face turning serious for the first time. His tone left no room for argument.

Thorne nodded, his jaw tight, and turned to leave, but not before catching the look of amusement in his uncle’s eyes. Looking around the lavish room, he turned around and asked a question that had been bugging him. "Are you a noble, Uncle?"

The man gave him a cold smile before responding. "No, just a man that knows a lot of secrets."