The spires of Ebonfang Academy shimmered beneath a violet dawn.
Black crystal towers pierced the clouds like blades, their runes pulsing faintly with energy from the Twilight Rift below.
Students from every race filled the marble courtyards — silver-haired elves in emerald robes, towering Beastmen laughing in rough voices, and pale Vampires gliding like living shadows.
Kael Dravaryn stood at the edge of it all, his worn cloak fluttering against the morning wind. The academy was louder, brighter, and more alive than anything he'd imagined.
And yet, beneath the sound of chatter, he felt an undercurrent of unease — the subtle pause in conversation, the glances toward his blackened arms.
Battle Tribe.
The word hung in every whisper like a curse.
Professor Helara, a tall Elf with hair the color of starlight, stood on the podium.
"Welcome, students, to Ebonfang Academy," she announced. "Here, we learn not only to master power, but to understand it. You will train together, study together… and survive together."
She gestured toward the massive gate behind her. "Dorm assignments have been made. Do not challenge another student outside the designated arenas. Duel trials will begin at dusk."
Murmurs swept through the crowd.
Kael caught the cold, crimson gaze of a girl standing apart from the others — graceful, poised, and far too calm. Her uniform's collar bore the emblem of House Umbra: the mark of elite Vampires.
Lirael Vaencrest.
Kael didn't need an introduction. Her name alone carried weight — top of her class, rumored to have slain an entire Beastman squad during her final trial last term.
Their eyes met for a moment.
Hers gleamed with quiet disdain — and something else. Curiosity, maybe.
Then she turned away.
The boys' dorm stood near the edge of the academy cliffs, overlooking the shimmering Rift. Kael pushed open the door to his assigned room — and froze.
A mess of feathers, bags, and half-eaten fruit covered every surface.
Then a voice from above said, "You must be my new roommate! Don't mind the chaos — I was, uh, experimenting with wind-draft flight patterns. In my sleep."
Kael looked up to see a young man perched on the ceiling beam — golden eyes, messy brown hair streaked with white, and faint feathers along his neck.
He grinned. "Name's Ryn Halcrest, proud Hawk-type Beastman of the Ironwild Expanse! And you're… gloomy."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Kael Dravaryn."
"Right, right, the quiet type." Ryn flipped down from the beam, landing lightly. His feathers receded, skin turning fully human in seconds. "See? Civilized. The professors like it when I pretend."
Kael smirked despite himself. "You're loud."
"Someone has to make up for your lack of personality," Ryn said cheerfully, patting Kael's shoulder. "Don't worry, partner. Stick with me, and no one will bully you."
Kael shot him a flat look. "I think that's already happening."
"Ah," Ryn said, eyes flicking to Kael's arms. "Yeah… they really don't like your kind here. But I do. I like underdogs. Makes life interesting."
For the first time since leaving home, Kael felt a spark of warmth — faint, but real.
By dusk, the entire academy gathered around the Shadow Arena — a circular pit of obsidian and light. New students were paired off for evaluation duels.
Kael stood across from Lirael Vaencrest.
The crowd murmured with excitement.
A Vampire against a Battle Tribe relic? It was hardly fair.
Lirael drew her twin daggers, their blades gleaming like liquid moonlight. Her eyes glowed faintly blue. "Try not to embarrass yourself, relic," she said softly.
Kael tightened his grip on his sword. "I'll do my best to disappoint you."
The signal rune flared.
The duel began.
Lirael vanished.
A blur of white and silver tore through the air — Kael barely raised his blade in time to deflect her first strike. The impact sent him sliding backward, sparks flaring beneath his boots.
She was fast — too fast. Each move flowed like shadow and wind, her speed amplified by the Moon Essence that radiated from her body.
Kael focused, his instincts kicking in. He waited — reading her rhythm, searching for the flaw.
He saw it — a faint pause before she spun. He lunged, blade arcing toward her side.
For a heartbeat, the world slowed. His arms burned — black veins glowing faintly beneath his skin. The shadow within him stirred, hungry, alive.
He struck.
The air itself cracked — a shockwave rippling through the arena. The audience gasped as Lirael's barrier shattered like glass.
Then Kael stumbled, pain flashing through his chest. The energy drained as quickly as it came. His blade fell from his hand.
Lirael recovered instantly. Her knee struck his ribs; her dagger stopped just short of his throat.
"Not bad," she whispered. "But you're not ready for the power you carry."
The signal rune flared again. The duel was over.
Kael lay on the ground, breathing hard, the faint glow fading from his arms. Around him, the crowd murmured — half impressed, half fearful.
Ryn was waiting outside the arena when Kael limped out.
He whistled. "You nearly blew up the floor, man. That was awesome!"
Kael sighed. "I lost."
"Yeah, but you made the top Vampire flinch." Ryn grinned. "That's a win in my book."
Kael glanced back at the arena, where Lirael stood watching him with unreadable eyes. For a moment, he saw something there — not mockery, but recognition.
The ember inside him flickered again.
Not dead. Just waiting.