In a dark, rainy city, a massive gated academy took up a huge chunk of the western side of the city.
Within the gates were dozens—if not hundreds—of dormitories, facilities, towers, and buildings.
Arcane streetlamps lined the streets of this sprawling, city-like academy. Stalls, stores, and restaurants were scattered everywhere, closed for now but always ready for students when needed. At the center stood the main building, towering above the rest. On its roof, a golden sign proudly displayed the words: "The Grand Academy of Veylithral."
This was where students attended theory classes. Surrounding it were dozens of smaller facilities for practical lessons, and further out, the dormitories, each marked with symbols of animals, mythical creatures, or rare materials.
Most rooms were dark.
All except one.
Inside, the rain drummed steadily against the window. At a table sat a teenage boy, writing.
Scribble— scribble—
He leaned back in his chair, revealing sharp features, blood-red eyes, and messy long dark hair tipped with white. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing firm arms, but the most striking detail was the ominous, pulsating violet veins snaking beneath his skin.
He sighed and rolled his sleeves back down. His gaze fell on the book before him. He bit the inside of his cheek.
The cover read: "The Story of How I Died."
He flipped it open to the first page.
And began writing.
Chapter one.