Two days later, Aryeh stood outside the Arcane Academy, its towering spires and intricate architecture looming before him. The school looked almost otherworldly, a mixture of modern design and ancient, mystical elements woven together. Energy hummed in the air around the building, and Aryeh could sense the power contained within its walls.
He had agreed to meet with Professors Caine and Lathena, as well as Miriam, to discuss the possibility of him joining the Academy. As he approached the large, ornate doors, they opened on their own, as if sensing his arrival.
Inside, the Academy was just as impressive. Students dressed in various uniforms moved through the hallways, some with books in hand, others practicing their abilities in designated areas. The air buzzed with magic and energy, and Aryeh could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, though it didn't seem hostile—just... potent.
Caine and Lathena met him in a large, open room that appeared to be a cross between a classroom and a training arena. Miriam stood beside them, her expression unreadable as they greeted Aryeh.
"We're glad you decided to come," Caine said, offering Aryeh a polite smile. "This Academy is a place for learning and growth, but it's also where students discover the true potential of their abilities. We believe you have something unique, Aryeh—something that goes beyond ordinary powers."
Lathena stepped forward, her eyes sharp as she studied Aryeh. "Your power isn't something we've encountered before. It's raw and untamed, but with the right guidance, it could be developed into something extraordinary."
Aryeh remained silent, his gaze shifting between the two professors and Miriam. He could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on him, but he wasn't sure how he felt about it.
"What do you want from me?" Aryeh finally asked, his voice steady.
Caine and Lathena exchanged a glance before Caine answered. "We want to help you, Aryeh. We want to teach you how to control your power, to understand where it comes from. But more than that, we believe you could be a vital part of something greater. The world is changing, and people like you—people with extraordinary abilities—are going to play a crucial role in shaping the future."
Aryeh's jaw tightened. He wasn't interested in shaping the future. His mission was simple: fight back against the forces that had destroyed his past. But if this power—whatever it was—could help him do that, maybe it was worth the risk.
"I'll train with you," Aryeh said slowly, "but I have my own goals. If this power can help me in the fight I'm preparing for, I'll stay. But I won't lose sight of my mission."
Lathena smiled, her eyes gleaming with approval. "We wouldn't expect anything less."
Caine nodded. "Then welcome to the Arcane Academy, Aryeh. Let's begin."
As Aryeh took his first steps into the Academy, the weight of his decision settled over him like a cloak. He had chosen this path, but the future—his future—remained uncertain. The fire within him burned hotter than ever, and Aryeh knew one thing for certain: whatever came next, he would face it head-on.
This was only the beginning.
Aryeh, Miriam, and the two professors walked through the grand halls of the Arcane Academy, the architecture around them growing more ornate as they ventured deeper into the building. As they passed groups of students training, practicing magic, or harnessing their metahuman
abilities, Aryeh couldn't help but feel out of place. This was a world of privilege and power, and despite his own strength, he knew he didn't belong in that world—not yet, at least.
They arrived at a large set of double doors made of dark oak, intricately carved with mystical symbols that seemed to shimmer faintly in the light. Professor Lathena stepped forward and knocked twice, the sound echoing through the hallway. A moment later, the doors swung open, revealing a spacious office filled with bookshelves, ancient relics, and a large mahogany desk at its center. Behind the desk sat the Academy's director, an older man with sharp features and piercing blue eyes.
He rose from his chair and gestured for them to enter. "Please, come in."
The director was tall and imposing, with silver hair slicked back and a suit tailored to perfection. There was a quiet power about him, the kind that came with both age and authority. His gaze swept over Aryeh, lingering for a moment before he turned his attention to Miriam and the two professors.
"Thank you, Professors Lathena and Caine, for bringing Aryeh and his grand mother to me," the director said in a smooth, measured tone. "I am Director Roth, the head of the Arcane Academy. I understand Aryeh is a... unique case."
Aryeh shifted uncomfortably but met the director's gaze without flinching. Miriam, standing beside him, remained silent, her expression serious.
Roth motioned for them to sit, and they did, taking seats across from his desk. He sat back down, folding his hands in front of him.
"The Arcane Academy," he began, "is one of the most prestigious institutions in the world. Typically, our student body comes from the ultra-wealthy, those who can afford to pay for the best education and training money can buy. Our curriculum is designed to cultivate leaders, innovators, and now, metahuman protectors of Britannia."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing.
"But," he added, "we also believe in giving opportunities to those who come from less fortunate backgrounds, provided they have the potential to excel. We offer a voucher program for students from low-income families, as long as they maintain a GPA of 3.6 or higher. This program is limited, and only a select few students qualify."
Aryeh furrowed his brow. "But I'm not a metahuman, and I'm definitely not rich. Where do I fit in?"
Roth smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You raise an important point, Aryeh. Traditionally, students without metahuman abilities who attend the Academy come from wealthy families—old money, with the means to afford our tuition. But in your case, you're a special circumstance. You've demonstrated remarkable physical and mental capabilities, and while you may not be a metahuman, the fact that you were able to best two powered individuals caught our attention."
Aryeh listened intently, trying to understand where the director was going with this.
"We've recently begun expanding our outreach," Roth continued. "When the military created the metahuman branch, they partnered with us to develop and train the next generation of protectors. The government has allocated billions of dollars to our academy to ensure that metahumans are given the best education and training available, with the goal of using their abilities to safeguard the homeland. But this isn't just about metahumans. We're also interested in individuals who show exceptional talent, even without powers."
The director leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "Aryeh, students like you don't come to the Academy often. Most students from low-income backgrounds struggle to meet the academic standards, and very few come from non-metahuman families. But you have something different—an innate talent, a drive, and now, it seems, a potential power you've yet to fully understand."
Miriam glanced at Aryeh, then back at the director. "So, what does this mean for Aryeh? Will he be accepted into the Academy?"
Roth nodded slowly. "Yes. Aryeh will be admitted under our special program for low-income students, provided he maintains a GPA of 3.6 or higher. His physical abilities, combined with this new, latent power, make him an ideal candidate. He will receive full funding for his tuition, room, and board—essentially a scholarship. However, the expectations are high. Aryeh will be held to the same rigorous standards as our wealthiest students, both academically and physically."
Aryeh's mind raced. The thought of attending such an elite institution seemed unreal, but he couldn't ignore the opportunity in front of him. This could be the key to not only unlocking his abilities but also advancing his personal goals.
"And what if I can't keep up?" Aryeh asked, his voice steady despite the uncertainty in his gut.
"If you cannot maintain the GPA," Roth replied, "you will lose your funding and your place at the Academy. But from what I've seen of you, Aryeh, I don't think that will be a problem."
There was a pause, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. Aryeh glanced at Miriam, who gave him a small nod of encouragement.
"I'll do it," Aryeh said finally. "I'll join the Academy."
Roth's smile widened slightly. "Excellent. We'll arrange for your enrollment immediately. Classes begin in two weeks, and you'll have plenty of time to adjust to life at the Academy. Professors Caine and Lathena will oversee your integration into the student body."
The director stood, signaling the end of the meeting. "I look forward to seeing what you'll accomplish here, Aryeh. Welcome to the Arcane Academy."
As they left the director's office, Aryeh couldn't help but feel the weight of his decision settle on his shoulders. The path ahead was uncertain, but if the Arcane Academy could help him harness his power and give him the tools he needed for the fight ahead, then it was a path he was willing to walk.
This was only the beginning of a much larger journey, and Aryeh knew he couldn't afford to fail. Not here. Not now.
As Aryeh and Miriam stepped out of Director Roth's office, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. The Academy, with its grandeur and elite status, was now part of his world—a world far removed from the struggles of his past. The two professors/trainers, Caine and Lathena, walked alongside them down the corridor, the atmosphere between them calm yet electric with possibility.
Miriam looked at Aryeh, her eyes a mix of pride and concern. "This is a big opportunity, Aryeh. But you have to understand, this place will challenge you in ways you're not used to."
Aryeh nodded, his mind still processing the weight of it all. "I know. But it's a chance I can't pass up."
Professor Caine glanced at him, his expression thoughtful. "You'll need more than just talent to survive here. The students at the Academy are fiercely competitive, and many come from families with long legacies. They'll be watching you—especially once they realize you're not from their world."
Aryeh met Caine's gaze, unshaken. "Let them watch. I've dealt with worse."
Lathena smiled, clearly impressed by Aryeh's resolve. "Good. You'll need that attitude. The academic standards are high, but the physical training will be even more intense, especially for someone with your skills. You're not like the other recruits—your background in combat makes you an outlier. But that doesn't mean you won't be pushed to your limits."
They walked in silence for a moment, passing students practicing levitation spells and others locked in combat simulations. The campus was alive with the hum of magic and raw power, a constant reminder of how out of place Aryeh should have felt—but somehow, he didn't. There was a drive inside him, a burning desire to prove himself, not just to the Academy but to himself and the world.
Miriam, who had been watching Aryeh closely, finally spoke. "So, what happens next?"
Professor Lathena answered, her tone brisk and professional. "We'll begin Aryeh's orientation next week. He'll be introduced to the different departments and instructors, and we'll tailor his schedule based on his strengths. Since Aryeh isn't a metahuman—at least, not fully—we'll focus on his tactical abilities first and then explore his newfound powers."
Caine chimed in. "It's important to note that the Academy isn't just about enhancing powers. We're here to teach students discipline, strategy, and how to work with others. Aryeh's going to need to develop all those skills if he's going to succeed."
Aryeh was listening, but his thoughts kept drifting to the idea of powers. He hadn't come here for that—he had come to train, to get stronger, to prepare for the resistance. But now, with this strange new ability awakening inside him, the game had changed. He needed answers.
"When will I figure out what's happening to me?" Aryeh asked suddenly, his voice low but direct. "The fireball, the power… I didn't ask for any of this. I need to know what it is."
Lathena's expression softened, as if she understood more than she was letting on. "We have specialists here who can help you unlock and understand your abilities. If it's something latent, we'll help you harness it. If it's something new, we'll study it. But remember, Aryeh—power is just a tool. It's how you use it that matters."
Aryeh considered her words as they walked through the final set of doors leading out into the academy's main courtyard. The sprawling campus stretched out before them, a mix of high-tech facilities and ancient stone buildings, blending the futuristic and the mystical in perfect harmony. In the distance, towering training structures loomed, and students in combat gear ran drills, their powers lighting up the sky with bursts of energy.
The sight of it all made Aryeh realize just how small his world had been up until
now.
Miriam turned to him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "You'll be alright, Aryeh. You've survived worse places. This is just another step on your journey."
He nodded, though his mind was already racing ahead. There was so much he didn't know, so much he had to figure out. But if the Arcane Academy was going to give him the tools he needed, then he would do whatever it took.
Lathena and Caine exchanged glances before Caine spoke again. "We'll give you and your guardian a moment. We'll be in touch with the details for your enrollment."
With a curt nod, the two professors turned and left, their footsteps fading as they disappeared back into the depths of the academy.
Miriam watched them go before turning back to Aryeh. "This is a lot to take in."
"I'll handle it," Aryeh said confidently, his eyes set on the future. "I have to."
Miriam studied his face, then sighed softly. "Just remember why you're here, Aryeh. This place may seem like an opportunity—and it is—but don't lose sight of who you are. You're not just here to survive. You're here to fight for something bigger."
Aryeh met her gaze, his expression serious. "I haven't forgotten."
They stood in silence for a moment, the noise of the academy fading into the background. Aryeh's path was clearer now, but the stakes were higher than ever. He was walking into a world of wealth, power, and influence—a world that would challenge him at every turn. But if he could conquer this, he knew he'd be one step closer to achieving his ultimate goal.
The Arcane Academy wasn't just a school. For Aryeh, it was the battlefield where he would sharpen his skills and prepare for the war to come.
A week later, Aryeh stood at the doorway of Miriam's small, humble home. The morning sun cast a soft glow over the house, and the air was filled with the quiet stillness that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. He turned to Miriam, whose face was etched with a mixture of pride and worry.
"You'll come visit, right?" Miriam asked, her voice gentle but with an undercurrent of concern.
Aryeh gave her a reassuring nod, stepping forward to give her a tight hug. "Of course. I'll visit whenever I can. You won't be rid of me that easily."
Miriam chuckled softly, brushing her hand through his hair like she used to when he was younger. "I'm proud of you, Aryeh. But just remember to take care of yourself. This is a different world you're stepping into."
"I know," he replied, pulling back slightly and planting a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be fine."
With one last squeeze, Aryeh stepped away, grabbing his bag and heading out. He didn't look back as he walked toward the door, his mind already shifting to the task ahead.
Title: "The Last Plate"
The sky was still painted in shades of soft gold and peach when Aryeh stepped out of Miriam's house, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, hoodie pulled over his head. The morning air in the city had that distinct island scent—it had rained just before dawn, and now the streets of his neighborhood steamed slightly in the early light. Pigeons scattered as he made his way toward the spot that had always brought him comfort: King Zion Caribbean Kitchen.
It was a small, humble restaurant tucked between a barber shop and a pawn store on West Ransom Street, its windows foggy from the heat of the kitchen, its sign slightly faded but still proud in bold red, green, and gold letters. The moment Aryeh stepped inside, the smell wrapped around him like an old friend—oxtail simmering in rich gravy, the sweet musk of ripe plantains frying in oil, and that distinct peppery tang of beef patties fresh out the oven.
"Look who it is!" barked Ms. Desra, the stout Aethiopian woman who ran the joint like a general. "Little soldier boy off to the big leagues now?"
Aryeh grinned as he walked up to the counter, pulling back his hood. "You already know. But I couldn't leave without one more plate."
"Sit down. I got you," she said, already shouting into the back kitchen in patois.
He found his usual seat by the window, the booth where he had once studied for entrance exams, sketched battle tactics in his notebook, and sometimes just sat quietly watching the street, wondering if the future would ever come for someone like him.
Soon, the plate arrived: a mountain of tender oxtail, bones gleaming with flavor, nestled beside rice and beans drenched in thick, dark gravy. Three golden plantains were stacked like treasure, glistening and crispy at the edges. A steaming, flaky beef patty lay on the side, daring him to take the first bite.
He dug in slowly, savoring every flavor like it was his last meal before war.
As he ate, memories flooded in—fistfights and footraces, heartbreak and hard lessons, the sting of betrayal and the warmth of unlikely friendship. He thought about Miriam, who had taken him in when no one else would. About the way she prayed for him every morning, never letting the world turn her hard. About the promise he made to never let this world kill the boy she raised.
When his plate was finally empty, he sat back, eyes half-lidded with content and sadness.
"Don't forget where you came from, Aryeh," Ms. Desra said as he stood to leave, wrapping two beef patties in foil. "And if Arcane Academy feeds you like a prison, you come back home and I'll fix you a plate."
He hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Mama Desra."
Outside, the neighborhood was already buzzing. He walked down the block and was quickly spotted.
"Aye! That the Academy boy?"
It was Rasheed, standing on the corner with a few others. Aryeh laughed and made his rounds—dapping hands, sharing jokes, tossing a ball back and forth with some of the younger kids who looked up to him like a legend in the making.
"You really leaving?" asked Cam, a lanky teen with wild braids and a smart mouth.
Aryeh nodded. "First bus out."
Cam looked down. "You gon' be the first one outta here for real."
"That's the plan," Aryeh said, tossing him the rest of the patties. "Hold it down for me."
He checked the time, gave one last look around the block—graffiti walls, cracked sidewalks, but filled with life and soul. It was beautiful in its own way. It made him. It marked him.
---
He caught the bus just past noon, watching the streets grow unfamiliar as the wheels hummed beneath him. A transfer at Eastgate put him underground, into the pulsing veins of the subway system. The metallic screech of trains, the cold gusts of tunnel wind, the flickering lights—it all felt like the city itself was holding its breath, sending him off with quiet reverence.
By the time he emerged from the subway station outside the Arcane Academy, the sky was a stark blue, the sun perched directly overhead. The massive gates loomed before him—etched with ancient runes, humming with a quiet energy. Towering spires pierced the skyline, casting long shadows over the pristine marble courtyard.
Aryeh stood there a moment, heart pounding. His fingers twitched, his senses sharp. He could feel the weight of the moment. Everything before this was prologue.
Now the story truly began.
He took a deep breath, adjusted his bag, and stepped forward.
---
The smell of oxtail still lingered on his jacket. A reminder of where he came from. A whisper not to forget who he was.