Ashenwell's mess hall buzzed like a beehive of tension—chatter between tables, plates clinking, forks mid-air. Commoners sat tight in groups of necessity. Nobles lounged like the school belonged to their great-grandparents (because it probably did).
Grim moved through it all like a shadow—badge on his coat, hands in his pockets, Sparks low-voltage inside him.
"This place smells like entitlement and expensive disappointment," Sparks murmured. "And someone near us is wearing Lume cologne. Who does that?"
"Someone with no enemies. Yet."
They reached an empty table in the middle zone—neutral territory. Grim sat, back to the wall. Watching. Listening.
That's when the room's energy dipped.
🐍 Enter: Vael of House Serkane
He didn't walk in. He glided.
Vael Serkane—white-blond hair, uniform too crisp, smile too perfect. House crest: a silver serpent eating its tail. Noble of the Irix line, descended from Emotive Strategists—people who weaponized feelings.
He stopped right in front of Grim.
"You're the transfer," he said, voice smooth like velvet dipped in poison.
Grim didn't look up. "And you're blocking the air."
Sparks chuckled. "One point, Ashenboy."
Vael's smile sharpened. "Not many commoners sit there. Brave."
Grim finally met his eyes—calm, unreadable.
"Or maybe the rest of you just sit too far back to see the real game."
"Okay now I love us," Sparks whispered.
A couple of nobles behind Vael stiffened. One whispered something. Vael ignored it.
"You did well on your placement. Almost too well. Controlled. Clean. As if someone trained you to pass unnoticed."
Grim said nothing. Silence weighed more.
Vael leaned in slightly. His voice dropped.
"You're hiding something, flameboy. I can smell it."
A flicker of heat danced across Grim's wrist.
"Careful," Sparks warned. "He's baiting you."
Grim's voice came quiet. Cold.
"I don't do warnings. I do reminders. You put your nose in the wrong fire, you'll burn."
"Ohhh. Say it again with a fireball."
Vael straightened, eyes bright with interest.
"I look forward to seeing what kind of 'fire' you're allowed to use here, Grim of Ashen."
He turned, cloak slicing through the air like a knife.
🔥 After he's gone
Grim leaned back in his chair.
"So. That's our noble snake?"
"Mhm. Smart, smug, dangerous. I like him already. Can we ruin his semester?"
"Eventually."
"Oooh, cold. You've changed, Grim. I like it."
💬 Cutaway – Kaia and her cousin
Far above, in the office tower of the academy, Kaia stood with her cousin—Master Halven, the Vice Head of Ashenwell.
"You vouched for him?" Halven asked, brow raised.
Kaia nodded. "He's more than they know."
Halven tapped a glass scroll. Grim's placement score hovered above it. Slightly adjusted… slightly hidden.
"Then we'll protect him—for now. But if the Serkane boy is circling…" He looked Kaia dead in the eyes. "Keep the glitch quiet. Or they'll tear this academy apart trying to find it."
Kaia didn't blink.
"They won't."