Chapter Six

 

Aria’s POV

Kael’s grin lingered in my head long after he left the room.

He had to be joking, right? I kept replaying the condition he gave me.

“You work with me to get to the top. If you win, you keep your secret. If you lose, I’ll tell everyone about it.”

After that, he just picked up his history book and walked out to meet Kaiden, who was waiting in the hall.

“What took you so long?” Kaiden’s voice echoed.

“Oh, nothing. Just a little discovery…”

I didn’t need to see Kael’s face to know he was smirking when he said it.

I forced myself to move, pulling on a fresh shirt and straightening my uniform. History class was next, and if I stayed too long, someone might start asking questions.

Still, my hands trembled as I packed my notes. His words wouldn’t stop circling in my head.

Work with me to get to the top. Win, and your secret stays safe. Lose, and I’ll tell everyone.

Urgh. Why did he get on my nerves so much?

By the time I reached the hall, groups of heirs were already gathered, voices low but buzzing with gossip.

“I heard this year is going to be different,” one muttered.

Another scoffed. “They can’t change it. It’s been the same challenges for years.”

“Yeah, it’s not like they’ll bring the Cull Trials or something…”

I froze. The Cull Trials? The name rang a bell. I’d seen it buried in one of my history texts.

The lecturer entered and the room fell into order. His voice droned on, covering the familiar material… core rankings, the strength each stage unlocked, then the history of the Lunar Ages. 

My mind wandered, but then he shifted, tone dropping lower as he spoke about past challenges.

That caught my attention. My hand went up before I could stop myself.

“Sir,” I asked, trying to sound casual, “what about the Cull Trials?

The room went silent. Dozens of eyes shifted toward me, the weight of their stares pressing down hard. Even Kael leaned back in his chair, brows raised like I’d just lit the room on fire.

The lecturer froze mid-step. His gaze flicked across the class before settling on me, uneasy. For a long moment, he didn’t speak at all.

When he finally did, his voice was quieter, heavier. “That… is not something we discuss here.”

My brow furrowed. “Why not? If it’s part of our history—”

“It was erased from the curriculum for a reason,” he cut me off sharply, his tone clipped.

“So it’s real then,” I pressed, my voice louder now. “It happened.”

Murmurs broke out among the heirs, whispers hissing like sparks catching fire.

“Enough,” the lecturer snapped, his composure slipping. “The Cull Trials are not to be spoken of. Not here. Not anywhere.”

I leaned forward anyway, refusing to back down. “Then why hide it? If it’s just another trial, why erase it? What are you afraid of us knowing?”

Gasps rippled through the hall. The heirs were staring openly now, waiting for his answer.

The lecturer’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turned white around the book in his hand. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“Then make me understand,” I shot back. “We’re heirs. If it’s part of our history, we deserve to know what it means.”

His voice broke into a growl. “Enough, Ironclaw. You’ll get your answers when the time comes.”

The silence that followed was crushing. My chest tightened, but I didn’t look away. The way he avoided my eyes, the way his tone shook, told me more than any lecture ever could.

The silence held, heavy and unbroken, until a sudden glow lit the hall. A floating crystal bulb drifted down from the ceiling, its surface pulsing with silver light.

Every heir sat up straighter. Even the lecturer froze, his anger replaced by unease.

The bulb flared once, then a voice echoed through the chamber, deep, commanding and unmistakably the Council’s.

“All heirs are to assemble immediately in the Academy’s garden. Attendance is not optional.”

The light flickered, then vanished, leaving the hall in stunned silence.

What was that about?

The air buzzed with nervous energy, but my thoughts stayed locked on the lecturer’s face, on the way his eyes avoided mine when I’d pushed too hard.

Why refuse to answer? Why act like the question itself was dangerous?

I walked among the others, silent, my fists curling at my sides. The Cull Trials. That name lingered in my head like a shadow, heavy and unanswered.

Kael slid into step beside me, his presence impossible to ignore. He didn’t speak at first, just kept his eyes ahead, hands tucked lazily into his pockets. Then, in that low, infuriatingly confident tone, he finally said,

“I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

I turned my face away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. My mind wasn’t on him, it was still back in that classroom, still circling the same thought.

Why wouldn’t the lecturer tell me the truth?