Kael knew the night by the coldness of the blade in his hand. The scent of iron and rain soaked every corner of the Arcane Academy, and the sky was starless—a black hole that swallowed all light. It was the same night, the night he betrayed his destiny.
He stood atop the academy's highest tower, his sword flickering faintly. The tip of the blade, though dull, felt like an extension of his soul. He imagined the enemies before him: shadows he knew were there, among the stone buildings, hiding behind the rain. He swung his sword, ignoring the hoarse shriek of the air being cleaved.
It had been three years. Three years since he was forced to cast aside his magic. At this academy, he was once a prodigy, a child marvel who could manipulate Essence with a gentle touch. Now, he was an odd sight—a swordsman who relied only on muscle and speed, among mages who summoned fire and storms.
There were whispers that followed him wherever he went. They were like another curse. "The boy who lost his light."
He swung his sword again. A sharp pain pierced beneath his skin. Kael tried to ignore the sensation, just as he ignored everything else. That night, he had used Forbidden Magic to save his younger sister. The magic bound him to a curse: every drop of Essence he summoned would drain his vital energy. Slowly but surely, the curse would kill him.
Suddenly, he felt something unusual—a dreadful flow of Essence beneath him. It was not the usual flow. It felt like something foul, cold, and hungry. Exactly like the night he was cursed.
Kael froze, his sword raised. He stared down, towards the forbidden cellar beneath the academy. He knew he should ignore it. He knew he should run. But there was a deep sense of responsibility, a guilt that bound him. He had to know.
He ran down the stairs, ignoring the warnings that hung in the air. He opened the forbidden gate and saw moving shadows. No, they were creatures. The creatures had glowing red eyes and were gnawing on the academy walls.
Kael felt a chill. He gripped his sword tightly. He knew this was not a drill. This was destiny returning. A destiny he would not avoid this time. He would fight. With or without magic. With or without hope.
He took a deep breath. "I'm going to kill you," he whispered. "I'm going to kill all of you."