Off the coast of the mainland, sits an island. Large enough to warrant its own name, Nanram Isles, surrounded by smaller protrusions of land. Encompassing the entire landmass are a cacophony of spells and incantations to protect what lies within.
The Academy, as it is simply known, is home to the next generation of the entire continent’s people. Nobility and royal families send their children here to coax out secrets about other kingdoms, form alliances and destroy potential threats. Described as a peaceful sanctuary free from the burdens of the war stricken world they all live in, but all parent’s know what they are signing their children up for. Especially the royals. A massacre. Be it of lives, honour, image, it can all be destroyed in the tournament.
The day of graduation has come to fruition, all relevant students are gathered in the courtyard. Settled in the centre of the main island, limestone ruins of sky high pillars and archways, covered in encroaching plants, trailing up their bodies. A mosaic of natural earthy stone lines the floor, depicting a rising sun and a crescent moon, currently hidden away by the numerous figures occupying the space.
Younger students look on from the higher buildings, from the windows in their dorms, speculating which royal will be the first to fall and who will rise above the rest.
The clearing was bustling with people, milling around one another as they waited for the headmaster to commence the gathering. Leon found himself in the centre of the crowd, his tail tucked close to his leg to avoid it being trodden on. He had been stuffed into the restrictive uniform, the collar tugged at his neck and made it difficult to breathe. Only one more day of conformity before he would be able to commence the tournament. He had already been informed by his mother that he was to be participating this year, and this year was special. What made it special, she neglected to tell him.
The sun glared off of the alabaster limestone ruins of the gathering space, runes carved into the tall pillars encircling them all. It was difficult to look ahead to the raised platform where the few teachers lingered, waiting for their superior to speak. He had always enjoyed the bright open space of the courtyard, though when there were this many people it made it hard to enjoy.
That year he had barely focused on his theoretical studies, why should he? He had no magical capacity, simply himself. Why learn the theory of how to cast a spell he would never be able to wield? Stupid and his family were in agreement. Instead, he committed himself to practising for the tournament, as that was all that really mattered in the end. They needed the supplies that would make up the winnings, but so did every other kingdom. He had already thwarted the eldest heir from Misebury; he was now dead and buried as a result. Serves him right for taking the cowards route, sneaking outside his room to aim his bow inside. Luckily, Leon was prowling outside that evening and had caught the older heir by surprise. However, as he looked around the crowd to find her, that meant that Serena was now on his tail. A terribly honourable person, Leon scoffed at the notion, what honourable man would try to kill his rival in their sleep.
Just as he caught sight of the blonde haired woman in the distance, the headmaster spoke.
“Silence.” His voice boomed out across the courtyard, the man was a strong magic user, clearly using some kind of spell to project his voice. After a minute of final shuffling and mumbling, he continued.
“You all know why we are gathered here today.” A few murmurs of excitement. “After years of dedication to your schooling, today you all graduate and depart from this island as fully formed and distinguished individuals. Ready to bring back your knowledge to your kingdoms and bring forth a new wave of innovation and greatness.” Leon was growing impatient, he did not care about these other people, they were lesser than them. They would go home, work on a farm, die on a battlefield or some other un-heroic manner. He would rule the kingdoms. They were ants for him to squash.
“But for some,” The man’s face split into a wide feline grin before continuing. “For some of you, this is the beginning of your route to glory.” He raised his suited hands high up to the sky as he spoke. “The heirs of the kingdoms shall commence their training and tournament as of tomorrow. As soon as the moon rises to its highest point, we shall begin the spectacle!” The sick joy in his voice was poignant, if the grin wasn’t enough of a give away. Every teacher had bets laid on the tournament, who would kill who, who would give up, who would simply run. Anything and everything was up for grabs. However, Leon had counted the heirs that loomed around the halls and there were not twelve. Nowhere near twelve. Unusual, the rulers of the kingdoms seemed to be popping out children every two seconds.
There was one person he knew would be returning. She had not been crowned that year and it was widely known the leaders of Marmoor did not produce more than one heir. She would keep returning until she became the ruler of Marmoor and even then she must attend until her own child is of age.
“I am sure some of you have noticed. We do not have a representative from each kingdom here with us today.” The headmaster stepped to the side and gestured to the veils of heavy curtains behind him, turning his own head to gaze upon them with a giddiness that made him look unhinged. “Filling out our ranks, heirs have been summoned here to participate alongside this year's graduates.” With a flare, he flicked his wrist and the curtains whipped back to reveal a small collection of people waiting behind them.
Leon’s eyes widened, raising to his toes to try and get a better look, but he was too far away to make out faces just yet. The crowd began to murmur with excitement, trying to see who had shown up this year. His tail was as stiff as a board until he gazed upon a woman clad in wispy ribbons of laced fabric, the tiny gems glittering in the harsh sunlight. Andromeda. His tail swished from side to side at the sight of her. He had admired her the past two years in the tournaments, watching avidly as she dominated the first year. Then the crushing defeat that made his blood boil at the mere thought of the Ice Kingdom. She was everything he was not, poised, graceful and intelligent. Good gods, was she intelligent, that’s how she won in her first tournament.
There was a tall looming figure beside her, casting a dark shadow over her shining form. Leon’s head tilted as he tried to place who the man was, he hadn’t seen him before and he certainly looked older than the other heirs.
Andromeda’s eyes squinted ever so slightly as the curtains were pulled back, in the darkened area she had not been able to pick out who was who. Instead, she remained silent where she was, waiting for the blistering light to pierce through the curtains. As it did, she took a few pointed steps forwards with the others, graceful in her movement and terribly light-footed. The quiet click of her white-gold heels against the stone is the only sound for the briefest moment.
Wrapped around her form was a mixture of silken fabrics and light lace pearlescent in its colour. Not something she would have selected for herself, but it was what her father had wanted. A representation of Marmoor, not of herself. It was a swirling delicate dress that had been tailored to her figure specifically, glittering in the sunlight like an unearthly siren. The tails of the fabric shifted gently in the breeze as Andromeda met the eyes of the graduates, all staring up at the gathered heirs. They looked small and meek in comparison to the heavy presence that now dominated the stage.
“These competitors have already taken on the tournament before, but as they are the only options of representatives for their respective kingdoms, they must join us again.” The headmaster finally turned and looked over at the handful of people on the stage. “Andro-” The beginnings of her name were cut off abruptly by a sharp gasp, it drew her attention immediately and she saw the widened expression from the old man. Shock and panic blazed across his expression as he looked at her, no, past her.
Andromeda followed his line of sight past herself, to the person standing on the other side of her. It was a man. A very sallow looking man, despite his height he lacked mass to his form. Carefully, the young woman turned to get a better look at him as the murmurings became louder around them, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny, nose scrunched up as she drew her eyes up to his face. For a moment, she had no idea why this man had elicited such a reaction from the headmaster, he looked normal for an heir. Then again, he looked older than her and she was relatively old when it came to the tournaments.
Her pale eyes rounded in recognition as she took the smallest step backwards, her hands drawing up to her midsection, knuckles cracking slightly as the muscles tensed in them. The chains and bracelets around her wrists clinked as they slid down her forearm, her lips parted in a small noise something akin to a gasp. Others around her were staring too, each experiencing their own surprise or confusion, but she felt like ice had been injected into her veins. He was in the tournaments just before her first, a few years earlier. She had watched them, watched him as he competed but then he had slipped away, never to be located again. Presumed dead or runaway, likely the former. Yet, here he was, looking a little worse for wear, but he was living and breathing right before her.
As her eyes met his, a strangled sound escaped her throat as she was drawn into his mind against her own will. The feeling of tearing through someone’s head was never a pleasant experience, especially when unprepared. Flashes of scenes passed her vision before she was sent sprawling into one of them, given a second to adjust to her new location before the person’s eyes she was seeing through snapped around. It was dark, but the images were so clear, it was refreshing not to have the vertigo sensation from blurry memories. However, Andromeda quickly wished that it wasn’t so clear.
There was another person, a man, before them. Their eyes were widened in the purest form of terror she had ever bore witness to, tears were streaming down his face as he trembled. “I don’t know who did it!” He begged. “I don’t know who killed her!” His voice was wobbling and coarse from screaming. Now her attention was brought to the bloodied areas of skin, it covered almost every square inch of his body as he sat crumpled in the corner of the alleyway. “I swear, I don’t know -” They surged forwards and did something, she couldn’t see what from the angle the person was holding their head. But it cut off the tortured man’s cry with a yelp and gurgling sound.
As they drew back, Andromeda saw the aftermath and it made her want to retch, to heave her churning guts up onto the floor. Just as rapidly as she had been brought in, she was thrown back out.
Staggering, a hand pressed against her temple as she swayed away from the man. Losing her footing, Andromeda tumbled to the stone platform, landing on her hip. She did not register the dull pain from the impact, instead she simply pushed herself up onto her forearms and peered up at the man.
“Misha.” The name was breathed out between her lips, soft and ghostly. As though she did not quite believe the name she was speaking. At her quiet realisation, others had clearly recognised him as well and the quiet courtyard had begun to grow in volume around them. As the noise only grew, Andromeda tuned it out, her blue eyes solely trained on the stormy ones looking down at her. 
Summer 
Night Weather: 
Heavy Rain Moon: 
