Chapter 5
Chapter: Blood Pact
The morning after the tower, everything felt sharper.
The wind outside Kadven Academy had teeth. The stone under my feet echoed louder. Even the stares from other students—some filled with caution, others with challenge—were heavier. Like they sensed it. Something about me had shifted.
But none of them spoke.
They never did.
Not unless they wanted something, or wanted you gone.
Today, they wanted blood.
---
It started in Battle Theory.
A lesson on magical duels. Instructor Deyos—a tall man with cracked glasses and no soul behind his eyes—paired us for "practicals." That meant fighting. Not pretend. Not light sparring. Real duels.
He called it education.
I called it watching students bleed for sport.
My opponent was Cassian Varn.
Noble. Proud. Magic like polished steel. Quick, sharp, and without mercy.
He looked at me like I was already broken.
"Try not to embarrass yourself, adopted one," he whispered as we bowed.
I didn't respond.
I never did.
Instructor Deyos gave the nod.
Cassian struck first.
Light magic. Bright and blinding. A blade made of raw arcane force. It flew toward me before I could blink.
I rolled, the heat burning across my shoulder.
I had no noble power. No shining weapons. Just one basic shield spell and a few tricks I'd built from commoner magic.
But I had fought worse things than noble boys with glowing egos.
Cassian rushed. Arrogant. Fast.
I sidestepped. Let him tire himself.
He grunted, annoyed. "Stop running!"
"I'm not," I said.
Then I struck.
Not with magic.
With dust.
A small spell—just enough to scatter the dirt from the floor into his eyes. He blinked, cursed, and that's when I stepped inside his guard.
I didn't hit hard. Just a simple push.
But it was enough.
He stumbled. Tripped. Landed hard.
The duel ended.
Silence.
Then laughter.
Not from me.
From the back row. Mira Valienne, noble-born and dangerous, clapped slowly. Her voice like honey with a hidden knife.
"Elegant, Cid," she said. "Very… common."
I ignored her.
Cassian did not.
He stood, furious. Face red. Magic still crackling in his hands.
"It's not over," he snarled.
"It is," Instructor Deyos said flatly.
Cassian turned to him. "Then I invoke blood pact."
The room went still.
Blood pact.
An ancient rule.
A private duel with no interference. Bound by oath. Fought to near-death—or death, if no one stopped it.
Rare. Illegal without approval.
But Deyos said nothing.
That silence was permission.
He wanted to see who would fall.
I had no choice.
"I accept," I said.
The circle formed in red around us.
---
Blood pacts change everything.
Pain becomes permanent. Magic burns deeper. Spells cut through shields like glass. It's raw. Real.
Cassian didn't hold back.
His attacks came faster now. Fire shaped like knives. Wind that howled like beasts. My shield cracked. My legs buckled. But I stayed up.
I always did.
He screamed a spell that turned the air sharp. It slashed across my chest, tore my coat, sliced skin.
Blood hit the ground.
I gasped, and the circle pulsed.
Cassian smiled. "You bleed like a servant."
I looked him in the eyes. "You speak like one."
And then—I let go.
Not of control.
Of fear.
The mark from the tower burned under my skin. My blood shimmered faintly—not red. Not normal.
Something old stirred.
I whispered a name I didn't know I knew.
Magic answered.
Not bright. Not noble. Cold. Silent. Dark.
Cassian's next attack vanished before it reached me. Swallowed by a shadow that wasn't mine.
His eyes widened.
I stepped forward.
He cast again. A desperate blast.
I caught it with my hand.
And crushed it.
His mouth opened, but no sound came.
I raised my blade. Not to kill. Just to end it.
And brought it down.
---
He woke in the infirmary two days later.
I spent one in there myself.
The blood pact was sealed. I had won.
And now, they feared me more than ever.
Even the instructors.
Especially them.
That night, another note arrived.
"You should not have survived that. And yet you did."
No name. No warning.
Just one final line:
"The seal has chosen you again. The pit awaits."