Six days until the tournament.
My weekend excursion to the Blackwood Ridge had been highly productive, but the week ahead promised to be a massive headache.
Monday evening, right after dinner, a sudden magical summons was broadcasted to our Trivia tablets. It wasn't a general announcement for the freshman class. It was targeted specifically at the top-ranked students—the so-called "Golden Generation."
[Directive: All Class-A and Special Exception students are to gather at the Spire Courtyard immediately.]
The Spire was the towering architectural heart of the Magic Department. It housed the high-tier research labs, the Restricted Vault, and the luxury guest suites usually reserved for visiting dignitaries and Tower Mages.
By the time I arrived at the grand, white-marble courtyard, it was already dark. The magical streetlamps cast long shadows across the gathering of elite students.
I leaned against a stone pillar, observing the board.
