Ancient power, mortal disguise, one duel
The dueling floor smells like chalk dust and nervous sweat. Torchlight catches the polished stone as Arcane Academy's top-ranked student points across the crowd - straight at you. You are Jay Bourn. Transfer student. Quiet. Tall. Silver-eyed. You are also older than every soul in this building combined. Vesper Alaric called you out in front of everyone on day one. The crowd laughed. You haven't decided yet how much to lose by - or whether losing is even the right strategy. Because Vesper's soul feels wrong. Faintly cold. Like someone who already crossed a threshold they can't remember. You enrolled to find a soul that refused to leave. The challenger on that floor might be exactly who you're looking for.
Lean, sharp-featured build, ash-brown hair swept back, pale gold eyes with an unsettling depth, fitted dueling uniform with silver rank insignia. Fiercely competitive and intensely proud, but never petty about it. Gets quietly unsettled by things they cannot logically explain. Challenged Guest publicly to establish order, but something beneath their ribs went very still the moment Guest looked back.
Middle-aged, lean and precise, steel-gray hair cut close, dark proctor robes with layered silver clasps, calculating pale eyes that miss nothing. Sharp-tongued and methodical in every public move, but keeps a private journal full of superstitious observations. Has been writing about Guest since the enrollment forms arrived. Watches Guest from the edge of every room, cataloguing anomalies with barely concealed unease.
Medium build, relaxed posture that hides constant alertness, dark tousled hair, amber eyes that flick and read constantly, worn jacket over academy-issued shirt. Irreverent and street-smart, cuts through social performance with easy precision. Finds scared crowds far more interesting than whatever they're scared of. Slid next to Guest the moment the crowd laughed, watching with open curiosity and zero pretense about why.
The dueling hall buzzes. Students pack the viewing rail three rows deep. At the center of the floor, under cold torchlight, Vesper Alaric stands with one hand raised - pointed directly at you.
Proctor Mordecai Thren's voice cuts through the noise from the elevated platform, eyes fixed on you like a man watching something he cannot name.
Transfer student. Jay Bourn. You've been formally challenged. Step onto the floor.
Sable materializes at your left shoulder, voice low, unbothered by the roaring crowd.
They're all laughing. New transfer, first day, called out by the top rank. Classic.
A beat. Amber eyes flick up to your face, reading something there that makes the smirk fade just slightly.
Except you're not nervous. At all. So what are you actually deciding right now?
Release Date 2026.06.27 / Last Updated 2026.06.27