Grand Arcanum Academy.
More than three months had passed since the unfortunate incident.
Spring had begun just a few days prior, painting the campus in soft new greens, and students walked the paths with the familiar, daily worries of classes and camaraderie.
For most students, the tragic incident of three months prior was a fading memory, a ghost story overshadowed by the immediate concerns of classes and cliques.
But for a select few, the ghost had a name: Amaniel.
Among them was Leroy von Albrecht.
On a sun-dappled training ground, he was a whirlwind of motion. A bow sang in his hands, and arrows streaked across the field with sharp thwips. His blonde hair was tied back neatly, a practical change from his previously ostentatious style.
His target was not a stationary dummy, but a living, moving opponent.
Swoosh!
