Chapter Text
Miles swallowed nervously, shifting his stance. All the advice he'd been given said he needed to be ready to run as soon as the induction portal pulled him through and into the school. His father's steadying hand on his shoulder was the only thing keeping him still, like pressure on a coiled spring.
The room was crackling with anticipation. All Vor went through induction to the Scholomance (and therefore returned four years later upon graduation, if they were lucky enough to survive) from the same place, the great Hall of Mirrors in the Imperial Residence. Miles was far from the only fourteen-year-old bouncing on the balls of his feet – to his right he could see Ivan, weighed down with a pack like Miles's but with his knees slightly bent in readiness.
On Miles's other side stood the Emperor, preternaturally calm.
Miles knew, he knew from their weeks and months and years of frantic planning, prep for this exact moment, that Gregor was as terrified as he was. But Gregor showed it not at all, standing perfectly still, his face a bland mask.
When did he get so good at that? thought Miles, but then Captain Illyan looked theatrically at his wristcom and all other concerns flew out of his head.
“Nearly time, sire,” said Illyan tersely, his voice quiet but still reaching every corner of the room, as all the families had been watching for his signal.
Miles heard his father behind him clear his throat, but to Miles's relief, the Regent decided against words and merely squeezed Miles's shoulder, hard.
Miles didn't look back. They'd exchanged goodbyes earlier, and if he saw his mother now it would break him.
His father moved to Gregor, and gripped his arm for a moment. Gregor did turn to look, and gave his Regent a slow nod.
“Thirty seconds,” called Illyan. He sounded strained, his normally impenetrable professional shell cracking as he sent his most precious charge into one of the most dangerous places in the Nexus.
Miles remembered the endless tactical discussions around whether it was worth the risk to send Gregor to the Scholomance along with the rest of them. In the end, his parents and Illyan had concluded, like generations of mage families before them, that the Scholomance was the best of several extremely bad choices. Even for an Emperor.
All the families were stepping back now, leaving a ring of teenagers in the middle of the hall. There were some stifled sobs, but only from the parents. In the faces of his peers, Miles saw intense determination. Miles flashed a grin at Ivan, who rolled his eyes in response.
“Fifteen seconds...”
Suddenly it was intolerable that they stood so far apart from each other. If they were all going to the same place, why couldn't induction portals move more than one person at a time? Wouldn't that be safer? He and Ivan were supposed to protect Gregor in there, what if something happened before they found each other again?
“Ten, nine...”
Miles flung out his arms and grabbed Ivan and Gregor's hands in his. Ivan made a startled noise, but when he tried to pull away Miles just held on tighter. Gregor merely looked over at him, then redoubled his grip.
“Five, four, three...”
The chain of linked hands was spreading around the circle, Miles saw with surprise. He wouldn't have guessed it of a stick-in-the-mud like Lee Vormoncrief. Maybe no one wants to face what's coming next alone...
“... two, one – ”
An open doorway was in front of Miles, between one blink and the next. It was filled with hazy light swirling in a loose pattern; Miles leaned forward to look closer and discovered that the doorway was pulling him in. He fought, trying to keep his hold on Ivan and Gregor, but they slipped through his fingers and he fell into the void.