The training hall of Astralis Academy trembled beneath the clash of mana.
Two figures stood at its center both young, both brilliant, both disasters waiting to happen.
The first was a boy with shoulder-length black hair that shimmered faintly under the mana lights, his golden eyes calm yet sharp as the edge of a blade. A faint frost glimmered along his coat, and in his hand, a sword of blue glass pulsed with cold light. Sebastian Nekros.
Opposite him stood another, just as tall, lean, his silver hair a mess that fell over eyes ringed faintly with dark circles. His expression was a mix of exhaustion and excitement, his grip firm around the curved handle of a reaper's scythe that hummed with pale light. Kent Takeahint.
They had been sparring since dawn.
