Smoke still curled from the half-burned curtains.
Rayan stood by the window, the cold night air biting against his skin. Below, the watchtower bells rang on, but no one came. Not a single guard had rushed to his room.
So they either didn't hear… or they didn't want to.
The Eternum Grimoire lay open on his desk, its newest warning burned into his mind:
If one comes for you, more will follow. Trust no crest. Trust no crown.
He closed the book and slid it into his satchel. If assassins were coming again, he wouldn't be here to meet them.
By dawn, a carriage was waiting outside the Valcrest estate. Cassian was already inside, lounging with the kind of smugness that made Rayan want to throw him out of the window.
"Still alive?" Cassian asked without looking up from his polished boots.
"Sorry to disappoint," Rayan said, settling into the opposite seat.
The ride to the Arcana Academy was silent except for the rhythmic clatter of wheels. But Rayan's mind wasn't quiet — it replayed the assassin's words: The Vessel must not reach the Academy.
The Academy's gates rose like the jaws of some colossal beast. Twin spires framed the entrance, carved with runes that shimmered faintly in the morning sun. Beyond lay a sprawling campus of marble halls, training fields, and towering libraries.
Hundreds of new students gathered at the courtyard for the Initiation Ceremony. Their robes were immaculate, their mana auras visible even without trying.
A voice rang out over the crowd.
"Welcome, initiates!"
A man in gold-trimmed robes stood on the podium. His hair was silver, his eyes sharp as blades.
"I am Archmage Serath. For the next seven years, you will learn the laws of magic — or be destroyed by them."
His gaze swept across the crowd… and stopped on Rayan. It wasn't curiosity. It was recognition.
Before Rayan could wonder why, a girl stepped up beside Serath — tall, with silver hair that shimmered like moonlight and eyes as black as night. Her presence was… unsettling.
The Archmage spoke again.
"Each of you will be assigned a dormitory and an initial evaluation. This is your only chance to prove you belong here."
The girl's eyes locked on Rayan.
And then — just for a heartbeat — he saw it: a faint mark glowing on her palm.
The same crest that had appeared on the assassin's dagger.
The Vessel must not reach the Academy.
Too late.