Evan was deep in his mental projection of runes, the faint glow of the shapes floating in his mind as he fine-tuned the intricate details of a new pattern. The tent was silent, save for the soft rustling of the wind against its worn fabric. Then, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled him back to reality.
"Evan," Arvid called, pushing aside the flap of the tent. His tone, usually calm, carried an unusual urgency this time. "Someone wants to speak with you."
Evan raised an eyebrow, setting aside his focus. "Someone? Who?"
Arvid crossed his arms, keeping his gaze steady. "You'll find out. It's best if you come now."
There was something in Arvid's tone that piqued Evan's curiosity, but he didn't rise immediately. "It's your leader, isn't it?" Evan asked, piecing the situation together. "The famous Theron Vayner."
Arvid's lips twitched slightly, almost a smirk, but his respect for Theron was clear. "Good," he said, his tone steady and neutral. "You assuming that will save time. Let's go."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and began walking, clearly expecting Evan to follow.
Evan hesitated for a moment, trying to decipher Arvid's cryptic tone. It wasn't often that Arvid dropped his usual laid-back demeanor for something this formal. Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, Evan grabbed his rune-inscribed boots and stepped out of the tent, falling into step behind Arvid.
The two walked in silence, the camp eerily quiet under the pale glow of the moon. They passed rows of tents and the distant outlines of training areas, moving further away from the main camp and into the shadowed edges near the forest. The air grew cooler, the weight of the moment pressing heavier on Evan's shoulders.
As they approached a clearing, Evan's pulse quickened. There, standing with a notebook in hand, was a figure whose presence was as commanding as it was enigmatic. Theron Vayner.
Evan had only heard whispers of the man—the leader of [The Gilded Shade], a prodigy among advanced apprentices, and someone whose reputation carried equal parts awe and fear. His dark cloak seemed to blend with the shadows, and his sharp eyes flicked over his notes with a focus that bordered on predatory. Despite his calm posture, Theron radiated an energy that made the air feel charged.
Arvid stopped a few paces away and inclined his head, his voice carrying a rare tone of deep respect. "Captain," he said, addressing Theron with deference that Evan had never heard before.
Theron glanced up, his gaze briefly scanning Evan before settling on Arvid. "Arvid," he acknowledged, his voice low and smooth. "This is the one?"
"Yes, Captain," Arvid replied, stepping aside to gesture toward Evan. "Evan Tharann."
Evan stiffened slightly. Theron's gaze now rested fully on him, sharp and calculating. For a moment, the silence between them was suffocating.
"I've heard about you," Theron said finally, closing his notebook with a snap. "A novice who has been making waves. Rapid progress. Precision with fire magic. Curious."
Evan fought to keep his composure under Theron's piercing stare. "I'm just focused on improving," he said carefully, his voice steady.
Theron tilted his head slightly, as if weighing Evan's words. "Well, Evan," he said, his tone calm but carrying an ominous edge, "I didn't intend for things to proceed this way, but time is running out. Arvid..."
Without hesitation, Arvid stepped forward, his usual respect for Theron palpable in his posture. His tone, steady but heavy with reluctance, broke the silence. "Captain," he acknowledged, bowing his head before shifting his attention to Evan.
Evan noticed the subtle shift in Arvid's demeanor—a sharp edge in his gaze that wasn't there before. "What's going on?" Evan asked, taking a cautious step back. "What is this about?"
Arvid didn't answer immediately. Instead, he adjusted his stance, one hand gripping a peculiar spear made of twisted thorns that pulsed faintly with a greenish glow. His other hand rested at his side, the veins on his forearms glowing faintly green.
Evan's unease grew. "You brought me here to kill me?" he demanded, his voice rising as the situation became clearer.
Arvid sighed, his voice quiet but steady. "It's better you assume that. It'll save time."
Evan barely had a moment to react before Arvid lunged. The spear sliced through the air toward him, its movements unnaturally fast and precise. Evan's instincts took over. With a burst of energy from his boots, he propelled himself backward, narrowly avoiding the strike. The ground where the spear struck crackled, faint green energy rippling outward in a jagged pattern.
Without hesitation, Evan conjured a Sphere of Ash in his hand and slammed it against the ground, the dense smoke erupting in a thick cloud that swallowed the clearing. The acrid air stung his nostrils as he shouted, "What is this? You really brought me here to kill me?"
Silence answered him. Activating Simulate, Evan scanned the area within the smoke. His nucleus pulsed, sending a map of his surroundings to his mind. But something was off. Arvid and Theron's positions weren't inside the smoke—only outside of it. Yet, through the dense ash, Arvid stepped forward as if unaffected, his glowing spear cutting an eerie figure.
Evan's heart raced as he tracked Arvid's movements. From inside the smoke, Arvid seemed to see clearly. With a sharp sweep of his spear, he sent a pulse of energy toward Evan. The air around him warped, the tip of the spear cutting a crescent path through the swirling ash.
Evan ducked just in time, the weapon missing his head by inches. Using his boots, he propelled himself forward, closing the distance between them. In his palm, a Sphere of Flame ignited, its heat licking against his skin as he prepared to counterattack.
With a fierce cry, Evan slammed the sphere into Arvid's side. The explosion of fire sent him flying out of the smoke cloud. Evan's heart pounded as he advanced, expecting to see a wounded opponent. But instead, a green husk—an empty shell of skin—landed heavily on the ground, crumbling into dry, brittle fragments.
"What in the—" Evan muttered, stepping back as realization dawned. This wasn't just Arvid's magic—something unnatural was at play. From the edges of the dissipating smoke, Arvid reappeared, unscathed, his glowing spear raised.
"You're faster than I expected," Arvid said, his voice devoid of emotion. "But that alone won't save you."
Evan gritted his teeth, feeling the familiar pulse of his nucleus as he prepared for the next attack. This wasn't a battle he could win through brute force. He needed a strategy—and fast. He shifted his weight, readying himself for the next strike.
Evan's boots flared as he darted sideways, narrowly avoiding another strike from Arvid's thorned spear. The sound of it slicing through the air sent a chill down his spine. His nucleus pulsed faintly as he activated Simulate again, tracking Arvid's position, but the glowing figure always seemed to vanish as soon as Evan prepared to attack.