Aetheria
The Culling
The Ivory and Ash Gate opens only for those marked by forbidden blood.
An interactive dark romantasy solo RPG journal. Every choice seals your devotion or your doom.
Aetheria does not forgive the marked
Aetheria does not forgive the marked.
You are one of them — a bloodline the Four Houses swore was extinct, a power that burns wrong beneath your skin. Tonight you walk through the Ivory Gate for the first time. By dawn, they will already be hunting you.
Survive the rites. Choose who you trust — and who you let close enough to destroy you.
Write it all down. You will need the proof of who you became.
The Hidden Identity
What name will you inscribe upon the academy's ancient stone? And above all... how will they whisper of you in the darkened halls?
Select your initiate's portrait in the Aetheria martial academy battle uniform:
The Celestial Assignment
Choose your zodiac sign. The cosmos of Aetheria will automatically classify you into one of the Academy's Four Elemental Orders.
Order of ...
★ Order Rule: unlocks one exclusive dialogue or action choice in each Act.
The Anomaly
Your magic does not flow like that of the others. There is a fracture in your soul that the highborn heirs secretly dread.
Unlocks an exclusive ally in Act IV: the Unmarked commoners recognize you as their own.
Forbidden Magic costs 5 less Power in duels, but every use drains Lyra's trust.
«You feel you already knew him from another lifetime.»
The Initiate's Awakening
Your Astral Power and Pit Reputation have surfaced in your blood. Three people beyond that gate are going to matter more than the other four hundred. You do not know which three yet.
The Public Humiliation
«Bow your head, Marked one... or let the frost claim your knees before the court.»
You step into the grand central courtyard of Aetheria. The air reeks of charred stone and bitter winter frost. High on the imperial balcony stand the Heirs of the Four Houses — Ignis and Terra bored behind their masks, Zephyr watching too carefully, and Maris already on his feet.
Julian, the merciless Heir of Maris, lifts a gauntlet of black silver. A wave of frost surges across the stone beneath your boots with a sharp crack, seeking to force you to your knees before the sneering crowd.
In the shadows of the courtyard and balcony, two other presences take note:
«Interesting. Nobody told Maris you would still be standing.»
Kaelen moves one hand at his side, and a pillow of compressed air gathers under your knees where Julian cannot see it:
«They fear what you carry in your veins. Don't let them extinguish it.»
Lyra, standing among the novices, is the only one not laughing. She whispers a word in an ancient dialect that names your exact Anomaly:
Mental Containment Trial
Julian descends to the courtyard. His dark eyes bore into yours; a sharp psychic talon tears at your inner barriers, seeking your most vulnerable secret.
Tap or click the button when the needle is precisely inside the glowing golden sweet spot to slam your mind shut.
He does not walk away. He stands there with his own blood on his mouth, and for one heartbeat he looks afraid — and not of you.
«Do you know what the frost does, Marked one?» He wipes his lip with the back of a glove. «It marks. Every soul in that courtyard now sees House Maris written across your knees, and there is not a thing you can do about it.»
He is already turning away when he adds it, too quietly for the galleries: «Bow your head next time. And bow faster.»
You will not understand what he actually did for you tonight for another six weeks.
The First Oath
The parchment absorbs the essence of your arrival night. These words will be remembered and quoted by those who hunt you.
Duel in the Forbidden Arena
The celestial bell tolls midnight. The first trial of combat knows neither referees nor mercy.
You are escorted down into a sunken basalt ring choked in thick mist. Across from you stands a higher-ranked champion, combat runes flaring across his arms. High in the imperial balcony, Julian watches with a silver chalice of wine in his hand.
Rune & Dice Duel
Roll your elemental die against the champion's defense. Your Astral Order grants a combat bonus.
«I hold secrets that could save your throat in the next trial... if you can see through my illusions.»
Kaelen's Enigma
Memorize the sequence of three runes as they illuminate, then repeat them in the exact order.
The Moral Dilemma
Tovan Reyes collapses onto the basalt, weapon shattered and breath ragged. Third-year, House Terra, and everyone in the galleries knows he fights the pit purses because they pay his sister’s tuition and nothing else does.
He looks up into your eyes and begs, in a whisper the wind takes before it reaches the second row.
«Why aren't you afraid of what you truly are?»
Wounds of the Arena
In the quiet dimness of the lower infirmary, Lyra wipes the blood from your skin with cold soothing herbs. Her hands tremble faintly as her hazel eyes search yours:
The Warding Hour
The Gaze in the Shadows
Combat is over, but the eyes of Aetheria never look away from you.
One of them marked you tonight more than the others. Seal this page under their sign. They will know — and at the Gala they will say your own words back to you.
Gala of the Black Masks
No student may skip the celebration of the Eclipse. It is the night where alliances are forged with poisoned chalices and secrets whispered against warm skin.
Black crystal chandeliers float beneath the vaulted glass ceiling, revealing the Warded Sun above — the black eclipse the Four Houses pin over Aetheria for the whole of this one night each year. Tonight, no path is locked yet: you may seek out Julian, Kaelen, and Lyra before the midnight bells toll.
Choose Whom to Approach
Three figures hold the corners of the ballroom, and the Eclipse is not going to last. You will reach two of them tonight. Not three.
«I should turn you over to the Council this very night.»
The Dialogue of Blades
Julian intercepts you among the waltzing nobles, gripping your waist with suffocating intensity as the violins soar. His dark whisper brushes your cheek.
«The Culling starts when these bells stop. I know the routes the hunters will take tonight — but truth is paid in truth.»
The Price of Truth
The freezing night air on the terrace cools the stifling heat of the ballroom. Kaelen turns a sapphire ring around his fingers, offering you an untouched goblet of spiced wine.
«I know what flows through your blood. Your line was betrayed by the Four Houses. Let me help you survive.»
The Shared Secret
Lyra pulls you into the shadow of a heavy velvet tapestry, unrolling a forbidden parchment under the flickering candlelight.
The Cut-In
«Go weave someone a story, Zephyr. It is what your House is for.»
«You have had her all evening, Maris. The rest of us are bored of watching you pretend that is a dance.»
The bells begin their long climb toward midnight, and the floor of the ballroom opens like a wound.
Julian reaches you first. His hand finds the small of your back with the awful confidence of a man collecting something he has already paid for, and the eclipse-light turns the frost at his cuffs to broken glass.
Then a second hand closes over your wrist. Kaelen does not raise his voice. He never does.
The temperature drops. Actually drops — a rime of white creeps across the marble in a slow ring around the three of you, and the couples nearest you stop pretending not to look.
Two hundred nobles are watching. Neither of them will let go until you make them.
The Touch and the Thorn
The haunting melody of the waltz still hums in your pulse. Inscribe the physical touch, the hidden threat, and the magnetic pull of who marked you most tonight.
The Ambush
A thunderous clang echoes, and every arcane torch across the campus extinguishes at once. «The Culling» is unleashed: the barbaric night where highborn scions are legally licensed to hunt the unmarked and strip their magical spark.
Screams shatter the damp stone corridors. Armed hunters with poisoned blades stalk through the flooded arches. You are trapped deep within the subterranean labyrinth of Aetheria.
Escape Route or Ambush
Three passages open before you in the weeping stone. Each one carries a different price:
The Alcove
The Rescue
«No one has the right to destroy you except me.»
The Loss of Innocence
The parchment is stained with ash and dried blood. Whatever you decided down there, you decided it alone, and the page is not going to argue with you about it.
The Solar Circle of Blood
Dawn breaks over the jagged peaks, bleeding crimson across the sky after the slaughter of the Culling. In the heart of the grand amphitheater, the Solar Circle awaits the survivors.
Before the High Elders and the assembled scions of the Four Houses, you take the center of the carved dais. Your Astral Power, your Pit Reputation, and the bonds you forged in the dark will now determine whether you are crowned, subjugated, or executed.
The Assault on the Four Elements
Three consecutive trials will measure your right to rule within Aetheria:
The Diadem and the Hand
Grimoire of Initiation
Final Survival Statistics
The Sealed Inscriptions
«No matter what crown or chains they bind around your neck today. If you ever need this world burned to ashes so you can be free, whisper my name. I will be ready.»
Your name, your portrait, your final stats, everything you wrote, and the ending you earned — laid out as a printable keepsake. Nobody else’s grimoire looks like this one.
Your name has been inscribed in the Book of Survivors.
Prepare for AETHERIA: THE FEUD (Phase II)... coming soon.