The Shoshi no Senshi academy was a fortress of ice and steel, carved into the North Pole's jagged cliffs like a scar. Dawn's pale light barely pierced the frost-coated spires, but the training yard buzzed with the clatter of blades and the grunts of thirty Cadets, all teens fighting to prove they weren't prey. Jace, twelve and wiry, stood among them, his crimson eyes bright despite the cold gnawing his bones. His breath puffed in the air as he tightened his grip on an ice-forged dagger, its edge glinting like a predator's fang. Seven years had passed since Elderglow's ashes, but the spark in his heart—his mother's dream of peace—burned stronger than ever."Eyes up, maggots!" Instructor Varkis barked, his scarred face twisted in a sneer. A Shadow-rank Vampire, Varkis's voice carried a hypnotic edge, not as strong as some clans' but enough to make Jace's skin prickle. "You think humans'll wait for you to grow fangs? Pair up, spar, now!" His gaze swept the yard, lingering on Jace, who flashed a grin despite the threat. Varkis snorted. "Wipe that smirk, Cadet, or I'll carve it off."Jace turned to his partner, Lira, a lanky Frostfang girl with wary eyes and a knack for illusions. "Ready to dance?" he asked, his tone warm, teasing. He always tried to lift her spirits, sensing the weight she carried—fear of failing her clan, maybe. It was what made people trust him, even in this frozen hell.
Lira rolled her eyes, her fangs peeking past her lips. "You're gonna eat snow, Jace." She shimmered and vanished, her illusion cloaking her. Jace's pulse quickened, but he stayed loose, senses sharp. He lacked fancy clan powers—his strength and speed were basic Vampire stuff—but Kael, his foster father, had taught him to think fast.A fake Lira lunged from the right, her dagger glinting. Jace sidestepped, his own blade slashing through air. "Too slow!" he called, spinning to block a real strike from behind. Metal sang, sparks flying. Lira reappeared, smirking, but Jace's grin disarmed her. "Not bad," he said, dodging another swing. "You're sharper than Varkis's insults." Lira's smirk softened, a rare crack in her guard. She didn't say it, but Jace knew: she appreciated the kindness.Across the yard, a deeper voice cut through the clang of spars. "Still playing hero, Jace?" Torren, a hulking Bloodrend Cadet, shoved his partner aside, his hypnotic gaze locking onto Jace like a trap. His clan's power could bend weaker minds, and Torren loved flaunting it. "Dreaming of peace with humans? They'd scorch you to ash."
Jace's chest tightened. Torren's taunts hit hard because they echoed the academy's truth: Vampires were raised to hate humans, to blame them for every burned village, every lost life. Jace's dream—humans, Vampires, Werewolves living without war—felt like treason here. But he straightened, his voice steady. "Maybe," he said, meeting Torren's glare. "But I'd rather try than drown in hate like you."Torren's laugh was cold, sharp as a blade. "Soft heart, soft skull. You'll never make First-class." He turned away, but his words lingered, heavy as the ice around them. First-class graduates were rare, the only ones chosen for Project Fenrix—a secret even Cadets whispered about. Jace didn't know what it was, but he knew it was his path to change things."Jace! Torren!" Varkis's shout snapped them back. "Center ring! Let's see if you're more than hot air!" The yard fell silent, Cadets forming a circle, their whispers buzzing like flies. Torren's got hypnosis. Jace has nothing. Jace's stomach flipped, but he stepped forward, dagger ready. Torren's sneer promised pain, his bulk dwarfing Jace's frame."First to yield loses," Varkis said, his eyes glinting. "No clan powers. Just skill. Go!"Torren charged, his dagger a blur. Jace ducked, rolling across the ice, his speed keeping him alive. He slashed upward, grazing Torren's arm, but the bigger boy barely flinched. "Pathetic," Torren growled, swinging hard. Jace blocked, the impact jarring his bones, and skidded back, boots scraping frost."C'mon, Jace!" Lira called, her voice cutting through the crowd's jeers. Jace glanced at her, nodding, then focused. He couldn't match Torren's strength, but he could outthink him. Feinting left, Jace darted right, aiming for Torren's knee. Torren roared, stumbling, but caught Jace's wrist, twisting hard. Pain flared, but Jace grit his teeth, refusing to yield."Give up," Torren hissed, his grip crushing. Jace's vision blurred, but he saw Lira's worried face, Varkis's smirk, and—beyond them—a flicker of movement. A cloaked figure at the yard's edge, watching. A Kurodan, like Kael. Jace's heart raced. Why were they here?Drawing on Kael's lessons, Jace relaxed his arm, surprising Torren, then headbutted his nose. Torren staggered, blood streaming, and Jace broke free, panting. "Not… done," he gasped, raising his dagger.Varkis clapped slowly, stopping the fight. "Enough. Torren, clean yourself up. Jace, not bad—for a runt." The crowd dispersed, but Lira rushed over, her eyes wide."You're crazy," she said, half-laughing. "Torren's gonna hate you forever."Jace shrugged, wincing as he rubbed his wrist. "Worth it. Gotta show we're more than what they make us." His gaze drifted to where the Kurodan had stood, but the figure was gone. A chill ran through him, not from the cold.
That night, in the dorms, Jace lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling. Lira's bunk creaked nearby, her voice soft. "You really believe in that peace stuff, don't you?""Yeah," Jace whispered, his mother's scarf tucked under his pillow. "I have to." But Torren's words gnawed at him, and the Kurodan's presence lingered like a shadow. Something big was coming—something that would test him beyond daggers and spars.Tomorrow, the academy's first trial loomed, a simulated Mujoken attack meant to break the weak. Jace's heart pounded, not with fear, but with resolve. He'd face it, and whatever secrets the Kurodan hid, he'd uncover them—one step closer to his dream.