They moved their conversation to Rolen's private quarters — a dim, weapons-lined room tucked behind the west wing of the Academy. It smelled faintly of oil, steel, and the rain creeping in through a cracked window.
Rolen closed the door and locked it. "You have three choices," he said, turning to Yegr. "One — warn the Council and hope they believe you. Two — sabotage the test entirely. Three — let it happen and learn who the vessel is."
Yegr folded his arms. "If we sabotage it, they'll just try again somewhere else. And if we warn the Council…"
"They'll laugh in your face," Rolen finished. "Or worse — they'll think you're the one infected with whatever darkness you're describing."
Yegr's jaw tightened. "Then we let it happen."
Rolen studied him for a moment. "You're certain? Because that means you'll be standing in the same arena where they'll mark the vessel. And if they decide it's you…"
"I've been the target before," Yegr said, voice low. "At least this time I'll know it's coming."
The next two days blurred together in relentless preparation. Rolen drilled Yegr in techniques the Academy didn't teach — strikes meant to break concentration mid-spell, breathing patterns that hid magical resonance from detection. They spoke in clipped sentences, moving like two soldiers who'd fought side by side for years.
But the night before the test, Yegr found himself alone in the dormitory. Darin was asleep, one arm dangling from his bed, snoring softly. Yegr sat on the edge of his own, staring at the moonlight spilling across the floor.
He thought of the old timeline. Of how many faces he'd lost. And of how, in three days of this second life, he'd already crossed paths with a threat greater than Jojk.
When morning came, the Academy was already buzzing. Students whispered in the halls, polishing armor, sharpening blades. The test was an event — both a rite of passage and a spectacle for the higher ranks.
In the staging area, Yegr tightened the straps of his training leathers. He spotted Serra across the room — her silver hair tied back, her eyes briefly meeting his before she turned away.
Rolen's voice came from behind him. "Remember — they'll mask it as part of the ceremony. Watch the examiners. Look for who doesn't watch the fighting."
The gates to the arena creaked open. A roar of voices surged in from the stands.
Yegr stepped into the sand, the sun blazing down, and knew the next few minutes would decide whether he had a target to hunt — or became one himself.