The morning sun bathed the sanctuary in golden light, a rare reprieve from the usual gloom that surrounded Dante's life. He sat on the stone steps outside, his thoughts swirling like a storm. Alaric's announcement the night before had left him reeling.
"A school? Are you serious?" Dante had asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
"You can't hide in the shadows forever," Alaric had replied. "You need to blend in, learn to control your powers in a normal environment. And more importantly, you need to understand how the world works outside these walls."
Dante hadn't argued further, though he wanted to. The idea of being surrounded by strangers while battling the chaos within himself seemed like a recipe for disaster. Yet, deep down, he knew Alaric was right.
Now, as he stared at the bundle of new clothes Alaric had left for him, he felt a pang of uncertainty. He wasn't just stepping into a new environment—he was stepping into a life he'd never known.
By midday, Dante stood outside Ravenbrook Academy, a sprawling gothic structure that looked more like a castle than a school. Students bustled around the courtyard, chatting and laughing. He felt out of place immediately.
"Relax," Alaric had told him earlier. "Your job is to blend in. Don't let them see who you really are. Keep your powers in check, and remember why you're there."
As he walked through the towering gates, he couldn't help but feel every pair of eyes on him. He pulled his hood tighter, wishing he could disappear.
The day started smoothly enough. Dante found his classes—English, history, and even math, though numbers had never been his strong suit. But by lunch, things began to unravel.
"Hey, new kid!"
Dante turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered boy flanked by two others. Their smirks told him they weren't interested in making friends.
"Name's Gregor," the boy said, stepping closer. "And you're in my seat."
Dante glanced at the empty cafeteria bench. "There's plenty of room," he said evenly.
Gregor's smirk widened. "I don't think you understand. That's my seat."
Dante clenched his fists under the table, the mark on his palm faintly tingling. He forced himself to stay calm. Alaric's warning echoed in his mind: Don't draw attention to yourself.
"Fine," Dante said, standing.
"Good boy," Gregor sneered, shoving him lightly as he passed.
The cafeteria buzzed with whispers, but Dante ignored them. He found another seat by the window, his appetite gone.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully until his final class: physical education. The moment he stepped onto the field, he felt it—a presence watching him, familiar and hostile.
"Let's make this interesting," Gregor said, holding a dodgeball with a wicked grin.
Dante had barely taken his position when the ball came hurtling toward him. He dodged instinctively, but the mark on his palm flared, and his reflexes became unnaturally quick. The ball whizzed past him, slamming into the far wall with a force that startled everyone.
"Whoa," someone muttered.
Gregor narrowed his eyes, grabbing another ball. "Let's see you dodge this!"
Dante knew he had to stay under control, but the mark pulsed with energy, urging him to fight back. The ball flew toward him again, but this time, Dante caught it mid-air with ease. The force of the impact sent vibrations up his arm, but he stood his ground.
The field fell silent.
Gregor's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of suspicion. "You're not normal, are you?"
Before Dante could respond, a piercing scream echoed from the school building.
Everyone turned toward the source of the sound, but Dante felt it first—an unnatural chill that sent shivers down his spine. His eyes met Alaric's warning glance from across the field.
"Stay here," the teacher barked, ushering students toward safety.
But Dante didn't stay. He slipped away from the crowd, following the chill to the darkened hallway near the library. There, he saw it—a shadowy figure, tall and distorted, its glowing red eyes fixed on him.
A hunter.
The creature lunged without hesitation. Dante barely had time to draw the dagger Alaric had insisted he keep hidden. The mark on his palm blazed, and time seemed to slow.
Dante ducked under the creature's claws, spinning around to drive the dagger into its side. The creature let out an ear-piercing shriek but didn't fall.
"Why now?" Dante hissed, dodging another attack. He couldn't risk exposing himself—not here, not in front of everyone.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Panic surged through him. If anyone saw this…
The creature lunged again, but this time, Dante let the mark guide him. A burst of crimson energy shot from his palm, slamming the creature into the wall. It dissolved into ash, leaving nothing behind but silence.
"Dante!"
He turned to see Alaric, his face pale. "What were you thinking?"
"I didn't have a choice," Dante said, his voice shaking.
Alaric sighed, pulling him into an empty classroom. "The Lords are testing you. They're sending scouts to gauge your strength. This will only get worse."
"What about the school?" Dante asked. "People are going to notice."
"Then you'll have to be more careful," Alaric said. "You wanted a normal life, but normal doesn't exist for someone like you. Every day here will be a test—of your control, your will, and your ability to survive."
Dante nodded, though his hands were trembling. This was only the beginning, and he knew it.
The next day, he returned to school, determined to blend in. But with Gregor watching him closely, strange powers stirring within him, and unseen enemies lurking in the shadows, Dante realized that graduating might be the hardest battle he'd ever face.