Aethelos: The Bastard of Light

The sun was already low when Group Seven returned to the main buildings of the academy. The three crystals were handed over to Brock Rocket in silence. He examined them one by one, then looked at the students with a tired but attentive expression. · “You used power during the escape from the Luzlon,” he said calmly. “I noticed. That will be reported.” · He added nothing more. He put the crystals away in his folder and walked off down the corridor, leaving the three of them alone. · Eli felt his stomach tighten. Yana crossed her arms. Lygar simply clenched his jaw. · Shortly afterward, the group entered the theoretical classroom. Professor Hito (looks chineses), with rigid posture and a clear voice, was already waiting for them. The lesson of the day was about residual creatures. · “The Luzlon,” he began, pointing to a golden projection, “were once great warriors of the Light. Even after death, their combat instinct remains as an echo of honor. They should be treated with the respect their origin deserves.” · Then the image changed to a figure wrapped in dark mist. · “As for the Schulon…” The professor’s voice lowered, almost with disdain. “They are nothing more than walking dead creatures. Empty shells without purpose, products of chaos and the corruption of Darkness. There is no honor in them. Only danger that must be eliminated.” · Lygar, sitting at the back of the room, slowly raised his head. His eyes darkened. · “Empty shells?” he repeated, his voice low but sharp. “So the dead of the Light deserve respect, and ours are just trash?” · Professor Lito turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. · “Watch your tone, student. I am teaching historical facts and official classifications of the kingdom.” · “Facts?” Lygar let out a humorless laugh. “Or propaganda?” · The classroom fell silent. Several students looked back. Eli felt his body tense. Yana watched the exchange without intervening, but her eyes were alert. · “One more word out of line and you will be reported for disrespect,” the professor warned, his voice cold. · Lygar opened his mouth, but in the end he stayed quiet, jaw locked. The anger, however, did not disappear. · At the end of the class, the students were sent to the courtyard. Joseph Ville Light was already on the platform, his expression serious. · “Attention, first years. · The first practical test has been evaluated. Those who failed will be expelled from Solaris Academy. There are no second chances at this level. The names will be posted by the end of the day.” · A nervous murmur spread through the courtyard. Eli automatically looked at Yana and Lygar. The three of them shared the same thought: Brock’s earlier comment about the use of power. · The group stayed close together, even without speaking. The pressure was visible on each of their shoulders. · Then Brock Rocket appeared among the students, folder under his arm. He stopped in front of the three and spoke in a low, almost casual tone: · “Group Seven… you passed.” · Eli blinked, confused. Yana furrowed her brow. Lygar looked at him with distrust. · Brock gave a small, tired smile. · “The report will mention the use of power, of course. But the final evaluation was positive. Coordination under pressure, protection of the tutor, and completion of the objective. It was enough.” · Without waiting for a reply, he walked away again, leaving them there in the middle of the courtyard. · The relief came mixed with something more complicated. They had passed. But the way they had passed — and what they had heard in class — would stay with them. · Lygar was the first to speak, still with a tense voice: · “That professor… one day someone is going to have to shut him up.” · No one answered. But for the first time, none of the three immediately walked away.