The Academy dorms, even the less luxurious ones, eventually quieted down as the evening deepened. The last whispers of excited chatter faded from the hall, replaced by the soft creak of settling timbers and the distant hoot of an owl. In Room 393, Ace finished unpacking the last of his meager belongings, placing his few changes of clothes in the designated wardrobe. Theron, true to his word, had already organized his side of the room with an almost surgical precision, every book aligned, every parchment stacked. He was now seated at his desk, immersed in a textbook that seemed to radiate an aura of dense, impenetrable knowledge.
Ace slumped onto his unmade bed, the thin mattress offering little in the way of comfort. He stared up at the unadorned ceiling, a canvas of bland plaster. The day had been a whirlwind – the imposing gates, the sneering duke's son, the surprisingly amiable commoner, the intensely observant professor, and now, the meticulously organized roommate. It was a stark introduction to a world far removed from the quiet, dusty manor he'd left behind.
His mind replayed the disdainful glance from Lysander Valerius, the knowing look from Elara Vancroft, and even Professor Thorne's unreadable expression. This Academy, for all its grand pronouncements of arcane learning, felt less like a sanctuary of knowledge and more like a carefully constructed arena.
"Man," Ace muttered under his breath, not expecting a response, "I came to this Academy hoping for a challenge, for actual arcane mastery. That's good, but it's busting with politics more than study." He closed his eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible golden spark flickering in his thoughts. The constant undercurrent of judgment, the assumptions based on his family name, the unspoken rules of this stratified society – it was already grating on him.
He opened his eyes, a slow, determined smile spreading across his face in the dim light. "Let's see what I can do to shut those mouths."
The words hung in the quiet air, a silent challenge. He wouldn't fight their battles on their terms. He wouldn't engage in their petty squabbles over lineage and prestige. Instead, he would focus on what truly mattered: his unique power, the incredible ability to reshape his very being at a molecular level. It was a secret weapon, one that none of them could possibly anticipate, and one that, when perfected, would render their societal constructs meaningless in the face of true, undeniable power.
He knew the path would be difficult. He'd have to train in secret, refine his control without drawing suspicion, and navigate the Academy's curriculum without fully revealing his hand. It was a long game, a patient game, but Ace Dragnell was nothing if not stubbornly determined. He turned on his side, pulling the thin blanket over him. The sounds of the Academy outside his door were muted, but he could almost hear the distant hum of arcane energy, a promise of the power that awaited him. Tomorrow, the real work would begin.
Ace Dragnell - Current Status
* Name: Ace Dragnell
* Noble Status: Low-Tier Noble
* Age: 16 (First Year Student)
* Strength: D
* Agility: D
* Endurance: C
* Intelligence: S
* Willpower: A
* Charisma: D
* Arcane Power: C
* Abilities:
* Unique Ability: Molecular Disassembly & Regeneration (Untrained - some basic control achieved)
* Description: The innate power to disassemble one's body to a molecular or even atomic level and reassemble it at will. Can regenerate from a single cell or atom. Can reassemble specific body parts, which will possess the same inherent power as the main body. This ability is currently raw and unrefined, its full potential unknown even to Ace, but he has begun to exercise rudimentary control over it.
* Elemental Affinities: Fire, Air, Lighting
* Skills:
* Basic Self-Defense (C)
* Survival (Wilderness - from his manor's remote location) (D)
* Reputation: Unknown / Low-Tier Noble (among students)
* Silver Crowns: 300
* House: Aquaris
* Dorm Room: 393
Info of on the Academy