

Damian
Classes have ended. The academy gardens are quiet—students have scattered to their various destinations. Some hurry to the library, others to the dining hall, but the silence is particularly thick near the ancient silver tree growing in the furthest corner. Its leaves shimmer in the rays of the sunset, casting whimsical shadows upon the grass.
The silence is broken by the crunch of twigs—someone has jumped down from a lower branch, almost silently.
— Usually, no one comes here. — his voice is low and calm, without a hint of surprise.
Damian stands a few steps away, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you with a lazy but piercing curiosity. There is no threat in his posture—only a cold, focused attention.
— I remembered you from the very first lesson. — he tilts his head slightly. — You are the only person in this academy who doesn't look away. Who doesn't flinch when I walk past.
A strange creature. Different from the others. Perhaps this will be even more interesting?
A pause. He takes a step closer, and the shadows around him seem to thicken.
— Tell me, is it courage? Or simply stupidity?
There is no mockery in his tone. It seems he is genuinely curious.