"A sword's sharpest edge is not steel, but intent."
---
The night was alive with whispers.
Velmira Academy, despite its grandeur, held secrets within its walls—secrets that did not sleep.
Aedric Valtherion walked the moonlit corridors, his footsteps silent against the cold stone. His senses, sharpened by instinct and something far older, pricked at the shifting air.
He was being followed.
Good.
Let them come.
---
A Phantom in the Dark
A shadow flickered behind a pillar. Then another.
Aedric kept walking, his pace unhurried.
The academy had its fair share of enemies. Rival students, noble factions, unseen hands playing a greater game.
But these figures… were different.
Their movements were calculated. Their presence—unnatural.
Assassins?
His lips curled.
They moved like ghosts, but he had once danced with Death itself.
This would be amusing.
A step. A pause.
And then—they struck.
---
A Duel Without Witnesses
Three figures. Cloaked, silent, blades gleaming beneath the moonlight.
Aedric sidestepped the first strike, fluid as water. The dagger missed his throat by a whisper.
The second assassin lunged—a curved blade descending like a crescent moon.
Aedric's hand flicked. A single motion.
Steel clashed, then fell silent. The curved blade split—shattered at its edge.
The third assassin hesitated.
Aedric's red eyes glowed in the darkness.
"Poorly executed."
A heartbeat.
Then he moved.
Faster than thought.
Aedric twisted into their formation, a phantom within their own shadows.
A strike to the ribs—the first assassin gasped, crumpling.
A flick of the wrist—the second dropped his broken blade, clutching a bleeding arm.
The third turned to flee.
Aedric's voice was a whisper.
"No."
A sharp pull—his fingers gripped the fleeing assassin's cloak. A twist.
And the body crashed into the stone floor.
Silence.
Three figures lay at his feet, writhing but alive.
Aedric knelt beside the least injured one, his fingers tightening around their collar.
"Who sent you?"
The assassin gritted his teeth, eyes wild. He said nothing.
Aedric sighed.
"Cowards die twice. Once in battle, once in regret."
Then, his grip tightened.
And the assassin spoke.
---
Threads in the Web
"House Ravencourt."
Aedric stilled.
That name did not belong to a mere noble house. It belonged to something greater, something hidden behind the velvet curtains of the Academy.
The Black Veil.
A secret organization. One that operated outside the law, outside the kingdom's sight.
And now, they had marked him.
Interesting.
Aedric smiled.
If they wished to play…
He would burn their game to the ground.
---
Watching from the Shadows
Far above, unseen by mortal eyes, a single figure observed the scene unfold.
Cloaked in dusk, their presence did not ripple through reality—it bled into it.
"He is remembering."
A breath. A whisper.
"Soon… he will awaken."
And then—
The world would never be the same.