Shadows in the Hall

The Academy of Veythar did not sleep.

Even as the sun dipped beneath the jagged peaks in the distance, the halls of the Academy remained alive with whispered plots and shifting alliances. Students walked in pairs or small groups, their conversations laced with ambition and caution. Every duel, every lecture, and every gathering was another step in the endless battle for influence.

Raine Vaelor had no illusions about this place.

He moved through the dimly lit corridors, his thoughts turning over the events of the past days. His loss to Aldric Valtheris had placed him under scrutiny, but not dismissal. If anything, it had made him a subject of greater interest. Some saw him as a curiosity, an outsider attempting to defy the natural order of noble superiority. Others, like Selene Veydris, saw an opportunity.

Her words still echoed in his mind. "You'll need alliances."

But alliances came with strings attached.

He stepped into one of the many training halls, the scent of steel and sweat thick in the air. Wooden dummies lined the walls, and a few late-night duelists tested their skills under the flickering glow of enchanted lanterns. Raine adjusted his grip on his saber, feeling the weight of the blade, the balance—

"You're here late."

Raine turned to find Elias Damaris leaning against a nearby rack of training weapons, his silver hair catching the dim light. He had that ever-present smirk, but there was a sharpness behind it tonight.

"Could say the same for you," Raine replied, rolling his shoulders. "What do you want?"

Elias pushed off the rack and strolled toward him, arms folded. "I hear you've caught the interest of some powerful people."

Raine exhaled. "Is that a problem?"

"Not for me." Elias tilted his head slightly. "But it is for others. You walked into this place an enigma, Raine. Nobles don't like mysteries. They want to know where you stand, what you want. And more importantly—" Elias' green eyes flickered with amusement, "—who controls you."

Raine smirked. "That last part won't be happening."

Elias chuckled. "Then you'll need to be careful. You're playing the game now, whether you want to or not." He gestured toward the practice ring. "Come on. Let's see how much of that outlaw reputation holds up."

Raine raised an eyebrow. "You want to spar?"

"I want to see how much fight you have left in you after Aldric handed you that loss." Elias grinned. "Unless you're still licking your wounds."

Raine scoffed and stepped into the ring. "Fine. But don't complain when you lose."

Elias laughed, drawing his own blade. "We'll see about that."

Far from the training halls, in the deepest recesses of the Academy, figures moved in silence.

The chamber was ancient, its walls lined with runes that pulsed with forgotten power. A single candle flickered at the center, casting long shadows over the hooded figures that gathered in a solemn circle.

"The false one has taken his first step," one voice murmured.

"The true one remains hidden," another replied. "But the pieces are moving."

A third voice, lower and more deliberate, spoke. "The Eclipse Prophecy is a blade with two edges. We must ensure it cuts the right way."

Silence followed.

Then, as if by some unseen command, the candle extinguished, and the chamber was swallowed by darkness.

Raine's muscles ached from the previous night's sparring, but he welcomed the pain. Elias had been skilled, but Raine had held his ground. A small victory, but a necessary one.

The Academy halls bustled with renewed energy as students prepared for their first set of ranked evaluations. These weren't just tests of skill—they were statements of status. Who would rise, who would fall, and who would be forgotten.

Raine adjusted his coat as he stepped into the main courtyard, where dozens of students had already gathered. Eyes flicked toward him, assessing, weighing.

Then, a voice cut through the crowd.

"Well, well. If it isn't the Academy's most talked-about newcomer."

Raine turned to see a tall, imposing figure striding toward him. House Crestwyn's heir—Cassian Crestwyn. Golden-haired, broad-shouldered, and radiating noble arrogance, he was surrounded by a small entourage of lesser nobles, all watching Raine with poorly concealed amusement.

Cassian stopped a few feet away, arms crossed. "I've been wondering—does a common-born outlaw fight any better than he talks?"

Raine's fingers twitched at his side. He could feel the tension in the air, the gathered students waiting, eager for another spectacle.

Elias, standing nearby, sighed. "Here we go…"

Raine met Cassian's gaze evenly. "You looking to find out firsthand?"

Cassian's smirk widened. "Oh, I think we'll all find out soon enough."

His meaning was clear.

The ranking evaluations were about to begin.

And Raine's real test was only just starting.