The Day After – Ashenwell's Whispers
Ashenwell Academy was many things.
Quiet? Never.
News of the upcoming duel spread like wildfire. From the flamefloored kitchens to the shadowringed observatory, one name kept coming up.
"Kael Vireos."
"Second of the Third Years."
"Lightning demon. Untouched in twenty duels."
"And he's going after Grim?"
"Is he suicidal or just bored?"
The whispers weren't kind. The academy smelled blood.
At the Flameborn Table
Grim sat with the rest of his group. He didn't say much.
Max sharpened a dagger that didn't need sharpening.
Ayesha stared at Kael's fan club down the hall with eaglelike precision.
Hadi tried to paint flames on her fingernails. She kept setting them on fire.
Tristan just muttered, "If I had a lightning core, I'd duel shirtless too."
But Lys... she said nothing.
She was grinning.
"What?" Grim finally asked.
"I'm just imagining his last breath. Or the way his legs might bend backward after I break them."
"You're not fighting him."
"Yet."
"Lys…"
"He insulted you. I consider that flirting. But the lethal kind."
Sparks buzzed nearby in glitchy frustration. > "I like your violent yandere. I just don't want her to kill my potential copilot before I can get a body."
"You're not helping."
"I'm emotionally invested, okay?"
Elsewhere – Zariya Watches
From the top tier of the east tower balcony, Zariya watched Grim's table. The wind curled around her cloak like it bowed to her mood.
Leta Vorn leaned on the railing beside her. "So? Do you really think he's strong enough?"
Zariya didn't answer at first.
"He's fractured. But he holds something ancient. Even the Court didn't break him completely."
"You want him... on your side or under your heel?"
Zariya smiled. "Why not both?"
Grim's Training – The Hollow Forge
That night, Grim stood alone in the academy's private training hall, The Hollow Forge.
Every flame he summoned sputtered first.
Then roared.
Then... flickered.
Sparks floated across from him, arms folded in her glitchy projection.
"You're still leaking energy. The Velthar wound... it carved through more than bone."
"I'm aware."
"Let me help."
"You already are."
He reached out. Her fingers phased through his, but the mark on his chest responded to her core.
His hand ignited—this time without shaking.
Kael's Arena – The Setup
Kael stood in the main Duel Pit the next evening, watching as students placed bets and drew runes into the stands.
"You sure about this?" Riven Harthos asked. The thirdyear duelist commander, calm and dangerous.
Kael didn't look away from the ring.
"If he loses, the myth cracks. No more whispers. No more reverence. He becomes just another spark."
"And if he wins?"
"Then we find out what made him the Flameborn."