🎭 Ashenwell Academy – Entrance Hall
It started with the sound of hooves.
Not real ones—illusion-crafted. Part of the show.
A new student arrived, flanked by Headmaster Vyren himself. Cloaked in muted grey with a single silver crest at his collar. Polite smile. Hands tucked behind his back.
His name, according to the enrollment ledger: Seth Virell.
Transfer student. Noble lineage. Special permission granted.
Grim watched from above, leaning on a balcony. Sparks immediately flared.
> "No record of that name. No crest registry. That's a ghost ID."
> "He's one of theirs."
Down below, Seth locked eyes with Grim for a fraction of a second.
Then bowed his head respectfully.
Too respectfully.
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🌀 Later – Common Room
Grim sat with Kerren and Lys at a table, pretending to study.
Seth entered.
Students shifted to give him space—he had that polished confidence nobles wore like armor. He approached Grim directly.
"Grim of Ashen," he said with a faint smile. "I've heard... things."
Grim looked up, unmoved. "Most of them true."
Seth chuckled. "I hope so. It would be a shame to disappoint."
Lys leaned forward just slightly. Smile friendly.
Eyes cold.
"You looking for trouble, transfer?"
Seth tilted his head. "Not at all. I'm looking for understanding."
He bowed again. "I hope we become... friends."
He walked off before anyone could respond.
> "Friends?" Sparks echoed. "He smells like spy-grade lavender oil and death."
> "He's here for you, Grim."
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💢 Later That Night – Lys' Dorm Tower
Lys paced in her room, muttering to herself.
"He's too smooth," she said. "Fake smile. Fake accent. Those are academy-issue boots, but the laces are Crestforge style. Spy. Court dog."
She stopped by the mirror and stared at her own reflection.
"He looked at Grim."
Beat.
Her fingers tightened on the windowsill.
> "He smiled at Grim."
Then—sweetly, almost too sweetly—she whispered:
"If he touches him, I'll snap his fingers off one by one and feed them to his hover-horse."
Then she smiled again.
And sat down for tea.
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