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, that meant a more practiced fighter would be sent in his sted, that or an older heir would be his undoing. A terribly honourable person is what they had claimed Misebury's heir was, Leon scoffed at the notion, what honourable man would try to kill his rival in their sleep.
“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 amongst the graduating cohort.” The headmaster stepped to the side and flicked a robed arm to the heavy veil of curtains behind him, turning his own head to gaze upon them with a giddiness that made him look unhinged. “Filling out our ranks, champions have been sent to compete 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 heart leapt from his chest as he raised to his toes in an attempt to get a better look but he was too far away to make out faces just yet. The crowd began to murmur with excitement upon one particular person’s arrival to the stage. His tail was as stiff as a board until his locked onto 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 in the past games, a dominating force that had stuck to the shadows like a viper prepared to strike. The second year she had returned after graduating had not been so successful, the crushing defeat had made his blood boil as he observed. She was everything he was not, poised, graceful and intelligent. Good gods, was she intelligent, that’s how she had won the first tournament.
Beside him, he could feel the slip in emotion amongst the other participating graduates. It coaxed him to twist his neck, eyes flashing with interest as he observed the myriad of expressions within their ranks. Leon had never really been one to stick with close friends, more of a floating presence among all circles. Of particular note was the stern taut jaw of Astrid, he didn’t have to ask him why he looked so frazzled. It was well known that the Ice Kingdom’s graduate from the same year as Andromeda had been sent home a complete mess. Not only that, he had died soon after.
Beside him was the fair-headed man, Leon had spoken even less to him. Kyyre was his name, crowned heir of Alderburn. The expression on Kyyre’s face was a little more difficult for Leon to decipher.
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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 champions have been sent by their respective kingdoms to participate in the tournament and bring glory to their home lands.” The headmaster raised his voice to combat the lifted volume of the crowd gathered. “The lovely exception to these two champions from Mausegate and Misebury,” He gave pause to land his shrew eyes upon her. “Andromeda Orchid, returning for her third year as the Marmoor heir.” His voice dripped with a sickness that Andromeda recognised, he had bet upon her. Whether he had bet to her victory or demise, that was a more difficult thing to conclude.
Her painted lips curled in the familiar fake smile as she dipped her torso in a practiced curtsy, the corners of her eyes creased so that nobody could see the dullness in them. These gathered people did not care if she won or died, in fact many would be elated to see her guts torn from her ribs in a dramatic fashion. That thought brought a sly glint to her pale eyes as she returned to standing upright, delicate hands pulled in front of her midsection as the headmaster began to call off the heir’s names.
With each name that was spoken, the heir was summoned to the stage. They were to be made spectacles for the masses, which would begin tonight at the ball. An extraordinary show of wealth from all families, glorious outfits, exotic wines and many lies.
Winter Month: 2 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
