The new rankings were posted in the morning a few days after the finals. Cale found them on the small electric boards just outside the dining hall, a bordered screen of the academy's gold. A crowd of students jostled around it, their voices rising and falling in an irregular manner.
He hung back, letting the others push forward, until most of them had drifted away. Then he stepped up and read.
At the top, in bold serif letters: Vorian Ashkar. Stage: Astral, Rank: C.
Below him, there were a handful of names. Halfway down there was: Valerie – Stage: Stargazer, Rank: B.
Further down, near the bottom of the list of first‑years who had advanced: Caelan – Stage: Awakened, Rank: A.
He stared at the words. Stage: Awakened. Rank: A. That was a full stage behind Val, and two behind Vorian. The rank was high for his stage, higher than most Awakened ever reached. but it was still just Awakened.
Inwardly, he laughed. "Rank A Awakened. What's that worth when everyone else is moving up?"
He walked away, determination burning in his eyes.
His first combat tutorial since he got to the academy was scheduled for that afternoon. Everyone had at least two chances of getting a combat tutorial each year; it was a one-on-one combat with a tutor from the academy's staff. He just had to apply, and if his application had merit, a tutor would be assigned to the applicant. In his case, he got Rourke. Rourke met him in the training yard, a cigarette burning between his fingers, his pale eyes seemingly as sharp as ever.
"Heard you got yourself disqualified," Rourke said without preamble. "Illegal grappling."
Cale nodded, feeling a bit hurt that the man hadn't watched his match.
"That was stupid." Rourke took a long drag. "It might have seemed effective to you at least, but it was stupid. You cost your team a fighter."
"But then, it bought them points."
"What good were those points since it just bought them a draw? Then your leader got her ass handed to her in the tiebreaker." Rourke tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his heel. "You seem skilled, but you end up doing some things that are uncalled for or stupid."
"I know," he said. Tell me about it. Wait until you get a system like mine.
"Then let's find out why." Rourke drew a practice sword from the bunch by the corner and tossed it to Cale. "Show me what you have learned from that tournament."
They fought for an hour. Rourke was relentless. His movements were precise, and his strikes, though never too hard, were always exactly where they needed to be. Cale used his Death Sense, in addition to his ice and his footwork. He lasted longer than he could have before the tournament, but he never landed a single hit.
Rourke stopped, breathing easily. "I assume you have some sort of ability that tells you where my strikes will come from." He didn't wait for an answer. "In A battlefield it isn't nearly as impressive as you think if you can't trust your body to move without it." He tossed the practice sword aside. "You're fast. You're smart. But you're fighting like someone who expects to be told what to do. Nobody tells you what to do; on a battlefield, it's you and your opponent alone."
Cale wiped sweat from his forehead. "So what should I be doing?"
"Trusting your instincts. I see you've trained with every weapon. You've probably drilled the forms too, and your body already knows what to do, but you keep waiting for that ability to confirm it." Rourke leaned against the wall. "You're not a robot. Let your body yearn for power, for fights, for strikes. You're a fighter. Start acting like one."
He walked away, leaving Cale alone in the yard.
Cale found Val that evening near the library. She was talking with a small group of students probably her new admirers, drawn by her Stargazer rank and her performance in the finals. She laughed at something one of them had said.
She saw him, and for a moment their eyes met. She started toward him, but he turned and walked the other way.
He didn't know what to say to her. He just felt he needed space, so he kept walking.
In the dining hall, he found a table and sat alone. He was halfway through a tasteless meal when a shadow fell across his plate. It was Lysander Leonis. What the hell did she want. She slid into the seat across from him, her smile cold.
"Rank A," she said. "How… quaint."
Cale didn't look up. "Is there something you want?"
"Just to congratulate you. You made a real spectacle in the finals." She leaned forward, her voice dropping. "Illegal grappling. Sacrificing yourself for points. I think the crowd loved it. But it's a shame the judge was a bummer." Her smile widened. "They noticed a lot of things."
He met her eyes. "Like what?"
"Like the way you fought. The way you fought back against Vorian." She tilted her head. "They're wondering what you're hiding, Cale. I'm wondering too."
She stood, brushing off her uniform. "Enjoy your Rank A while it lasts. By next year, the gap will be even wider."
She walked away, her laughter trailing behind her.
*What a weirdo,* he thought. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse.
Later that night, Cale stood in the empty training yard with Soul Drinker in his hand. He ran through the forms Rourke had drilled into him: the sword, the spear, the staff. He was moving without thinking, trusting his body.
He was about to dismiss his blade when a tremor ran through his shadow.
Revenant emerged, its golden eyes flickering. It stood motionless for a moment, its wings half‑spread, its gaze fixed on the far end of the grounds.
"What is it?" Cale asked.
Revenant didn't answer. Its eyes narrowed.
"Revenant."
The creature turned its head slowly. "Something stirs. It's deep and old." It looked back toward the old section of the academy, where there were unused tunnels and abandoned storerooms. "It should not be there."
Cale's hand tightened on his blade. "What kind of thing?"
Revenant's voice dropped to a whisper. "I cannot name it. But it calls to me."
After some moments of awkward silence, the creature melted back into his shadow, and Cale was alone in the yard, staring into the darkness.
He didn't sleep that night.