The three-hour exam passed in a blur. For Vincent, the act of writing was like weaving a spell—precise, deliberate, and calculated. Each word etched onto the enchanted parchment felt like a declaration of his intent to dominate.
When the proctor finally announced the end, the room filled with the sound of quills being set down and students exhaling in relief or frustration. Vincent leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He wasn't one to waste energy on self-congratulation, but he knew he had performed well.
The enchanted parchment dissolved into a faint shimmer, whisked away by magic for grading. With the exam complete, students began to file out of the chamber, the hum of conversation growing louder.
Eleanor approached him, her face a mix of nervousness and excitement. "How do you think you did?" she asked, her hands clutching her bag tightly.
"Well enough," Vincent replied, his voice clipped. "And you?"
She hesitated, then smiled. "I think I managed. Some of the questions were tough, but I did my best."
He nodded, his gaze scanning the room. "Good. But remember, this is just the beginning. There's no room for mediocrity here."
Eleanor's smile faltered slightly, but she nodded. "I know."
Before Vincent could say more, a voice cut through the din.
"Well, that was tedious."
Vincent turned to see Callum Thorn leaning casually against a nearby pillar, his arms crossed and a familiar smirk playing on his lips.
"I take it you found it easy?" Vincent asked, his tone neutral.
Callum shrugged. "It wasn't about being easy or hard. It's about making an impression. The proctors aren't just looking at our answers—they're evaluating how we think, how we approach problems. That's where the real test lies."
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "And you believe you made an impression?"
"Let's just say I didn't waste the opportunity," Callum replied, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He straightened and nodded toward the hall's exit. "But this is only round one. The practicals will separate the real contenders from the filler."
Vincent didn't respond, his gaze cool as he studied Callum. The boy had a sharp mind and an air of unpredictability, qualities that could make him a valuable ally—or a dangerous rival.
Callum chuckled softly, as if reading Vincent's thoughts. "I'll see you at the next test, Astor. Don't disappoint me." With that, he sauntered off, disappearing into the crowd.
Eleanor frowned, watching him go. "Who was that?"
"Callum Thorn," Vincent replied. "Someone who enjoys playing games."
"Do you think he's a threat?"
Vincent's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Not yet."
---
The rest of the day passed in a haze of introductions, briefings, and preparation for the practical exams that would take place the following day. The Academy buzzed with activity, students exploring the grounds, forging alliances, or testing their magic in designated practice areas.
Vincent, however, kept to himself. He spent the evening in the library, poring over tomes on advanced combat magic and runic theory. The Academy's library was a treasure trove of knowledge, its shelves stretching endlessly and filled with ancient texts that seemed to pulse with arcane energy.
He selected a book on magical dueling and settled into a secluded corner. The candlelight cast flickering shadows on the pages as he read, his mind absorbing every detail. The practical exam would be where he truly set himself apart, and he wouldn't leave anything to chance.
As he turned a page, he sensed a presence nearby. Looking up, he saw a girl standing a few feet away, her piercing green eyes fixed on him. She was tall and graceful, her long silver hair cascading over her shoulders like moonlight.
"You're Vincent Astor," she said, her voice cool and measured.
He closed the book slowly, meeting her gaze. "And you are?"
"Lira Valen," she replied, stepping closer. "You're not the only one with a reputation preceding you."
Vincent studied her, his expression unreadable. The name Valen carried weight—a family known for their prowess in summoning and manipulation magic. Lira's presence here wasn't surprising, but her directness intrigued him.
"What do you want, Lira?"
She smiled faintly. "To see who I'm up against. The practical exam tomorrow will be… illuminating."
"Is that a warning?" Vincent asked, his tone calm but laced with steel.
"A statement," she replied. "The Academy isn't just about power. It's about control, influence, and strategy. You'll learn that soon enough."
With that, she turned and walked away, her silver hair glinting in the candlelight.
Vincent watched her go, his mind already cataloging her as another potential rival. The Academy was shaping up to be a battlefield not just of skill, but of wits and alliances.
He closed the book and leaned back in his chair, his thoughts racing. Tomorrow would be critical. The practical exam would reveal not just his abilities, but the true nature of those around him.
And Vincent Astor was determined to emerge victorious.
--