By noon, the academy was already on the boil.
The gossip had not been quieted by dawn—it had grown and spread, twisting its way into every corner of the campus.
"Lucian Vale humiliated Rylan."
"No—Rylan nearly defeated him. Vale merely got lucky."
"Did you see the shadows? That wasn't luck. That was something wicked."
Every hallway echoed with it. Every patio buzzed. The academy no longer whispered of the prince of prodigies, Rylan Cross. They whispered of the shadow-born boy who had replaced him in the spotlight.
And Rylan couldn't take it.
He found Lucian in the east courtyard, where students had gathered following lectures. Sunlight flooded through soaring arches, and the spray of the fountain glowed in the air—but the moment Rylan's voice took on that boomed, halting quality, all beauty was destroyed.
"Lucian Vale!"
The group went silent.
Lucian turned slowly, shadows rippling darkly behind him. Rylan stood at the opposite end of the courtyard, his weapon already out, silver aura dazzlingly bright to water the eyes.
"I challenge you," Rylan urged, voice as cold and hard as a shard of stone.
Here. Now. Before everyone. No Council to protect, no professors to shield. Just you and me."
A gasp whipped through the crowd. Duels outside of official approval were dangerous—and irresponsible—but Rylan's fury left room for no reason.
Seraphine elbowed through the crowd, eyes opened wide, face alabaster. "Rylan, this madness!"
But Rylan did not falter. His gaze was locked on Lucian alone.
"You disgraced me before the academy," he spat. "You humiliated me with your tricks. Today I'll prove you're nothing but a shadow-wrapped coward."
Dozens of eyes turned toward Lucian, waiting for his response. Some with hope. Some with hunger.
Lucian studied Rylan for a long, silent moment. His lips curled faintly—not a smile, not yet.
"Coward?" he breathed. The blackness at ground level writhed, living, hungry. He stepped forward, the sound of his boot on rock booming like a drum.
"Very well." He said it quietly, almost monotonously, but with a cutting edge that cooled the air. "If you want to lose once more, I'll be glad to accommodate you."
The courtyard erupted. Students screamed, whistled, scattered to make a wide circle around them. Currents of electricity filled the air—two whiz kids, crashing in raw defiance.
Seraphine's shout was shrill, desperate. "Lucian—don't! This is not what they want! He's baiting you!"
Lucian's glance flew to her for the space of an instant. Her eyes were bright, pleading. But his course was already set.
Some storms were irreversible.
He stood before Rylan once more, darkness writhing at his feet like snakes that waited to strike.
"Then come, Cross," Lucian whispered. "And let everyone behold the truth."
The battle of pride began.