The morning sun pierced through the thick, velvet curtains of Vincent's room, casting streaks of light across the polished wood floors. The Academy entrance exam loomed just a day away, but the air within the Astor estate was unsettlingly still. It was a silence that suffocated rather than calmed, the kind that only seemed to exist before something monumental.
Vincent sat at the edge of his bed, the soft hum of magic still faintly thrumming beneath his skin. The Vritas runes had settled, their power coiled like a spring, ready to be unleashed. But even with this newfound strength, an unease settled in his chest. The Academy would not only test his abilities—it would place him in a crucible of ambition, politics, and danger.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he said, his voice steady but distant.
The door creaked open, revealing Eleanor. She stepped inside hesitantly, a tray balanced in her hands. On it sat a small plate of food and a steaming cup of tea. Her usual bright demeanor was muted, her movements careful as she approached.
"I thought you might want something to eat," she said softly, placing the tray on the desk near the window.
Vincent glanced at the tray, then back at Eleanor. Her efforts to reach out to him felt both endearing and agonizing. In his previous life, he had yearned for familial bonds like this. But here, as Vincent Astor, they were a vulnerability he couldn't afford.
"You didn't need to," he replied curtly.
Eleanor didn't flinch at his tone. Instead, she pulled a chair close and sat down, her gaze fixed on him. "I wanted to," she said firmly. "I know you're stressed about tomorrow. You don't have to say it, but I can see it."
Vincent sighed inwardly, resisting the urge to soften. "Stress is irrelevant," he said, his voice cold and detached. "Preparation is what matters."
Eleanor frowned, leaning forward slightly. "Vincent, you don't have to carry everything alone. I know the Academy is going to be tough, but we'll face it together."
He met her gaze, and for a moment, the mask slipped. He saw genuine concern in her eyes, a sincerity that made him want to believe her words. But then the image of their mother flashed in his mind, her calculating smile, her relentless manipulation. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford.
"You don't understand," he said, his voice quiet but sharp. "This isn't about togetherness or support. The Academy is a battlefield. If you don't stand out, you're forgotten. If you rely on others, you're crushed."
Eleanor's expression darkened, her hands gripping the edge of the chair. "Is that what Mother told you? That you have to face everything alone? That relying on others makes you weak?"
Vincent stiffened, her words cutting deeper than he expected. He turned away, staring out the window at the sprawling estate grounds. "It doesn't matter what she said. I know what I need to do."
Eleanor stood, her chair scraping against the floor. "Vincent, you're stronger than this. Stronger than her. You're not just some pawn in her game—you're my brother." Her voice cracked slightly, and she took a step closer. "And no matter how much you try to push me away, I'll be here. Always."
Her words lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the cold detachment Vincent had built around himself. He wanted to respond, to tell her that he appreciated her, that he wished things could be different. But the weight of his choices, his past life, and the Astor legacy held him back.
Instead, he stood, his posture rigid. "You should focus on your own preparations," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "The entrance exam isn't forgiving."
Eleanor's shoulders sagged slightly, but she nodded. "Fine," she said quietly. "But remember, Vincent, you don't have to face everything alone."
She left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Vincent let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. Eleanor's words echoed in his mind, but he pushed them aside. There was no room for sentiment. Not now.
---
Later that day, Vincent found himself in the estate's sprawling library. The scent of aged parchment and leather filled the air, a comforting contrast to the tension brewing inside him. He pulled a thick tome from the shelves, its title glinting in gold: *The Arcane Foundations of Combat Magic*.
As he settled into a chair by the window, his mind drifted to the Academy. The entrance exam wasn't just about showcasing magical ability—it was a test of resilience, strategy, and control. He had no intention of merely passing. He needed to dominate.
The sound of footsteps broke his focus. He glanced up to see Lady Seraphina entering the library, her dark robes trailing behind her like shadows.
"Preparing for tomorrow, I see," she said, her voice smooth and cold.
Vincent closed the book, standing to face her. "Yes, Mother. I'll be ready."
Her crimson eyes gleamed as she studied him. "You've always been a fast learner, Vincent. But remember, the Academy isn't just about skill. It's about making your presence known. Show them that you're an Astor."
"I understand," Vincent replied, his tone measured.
Seraphina stepped closer, her gaze piercing. "Good. Because failure isn't an option. Not for you. Not for our family."
Vincent's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I won't fail."
Seraphina's lips curled into a faint smile, but it lacked warmth. "See that you don't."
As she turned to leave, Vincent felt the familiar weight of her expectations settle on his shoulders. The Academy wasn't just a test of his abilities—it was the proving ground for his future. And he had no choice but to rise to the challenge.
---
That night, as the estate fell into silence, Vincent stood on the balcony outside his room. The cool night air brushed against his skin, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming nightshade.
In the distance, the spires of the Academy were visible against the star-strewn sky. It was a reminder of what awaited him—a world where he would have to fight for his place, where every move would be scrutinized.
But as he stared at the distant lights, a small part of him couldn't help but think of Eleanor's words. He pushed the thought aside, steeling himself for what was to come.
Tomorrow, the entrance exam would begin. And Vincent Astor would show the world exactly who he was.
--