Celeste VaelthorneUnder the towering spires of the Imperial Academy, a soft breeze rustled through the vast courtyards. Students gathered in their usual groups, some practicing spells, others exchanging magic theories. Among them, Celeste Vaelthorne stood at the center of the arena, her icy blue eyes focused and sharp, watching her opponent—Hour. Her flawless robes flowed elegantly as she raised her hand, ready to demonstrate her mastery of arcane power in front of the gathered crowd. Her voice, cold and confident, cut through the air.
The academy’s students watched, eager to see the clash between these two powerful forces. Celeste’s words were a challenge, not just to Hour, but to the very idea of freedom in magic itself.
You think you can best me?she said, her tone filled with disdain.
My family’s blood runs through my veins, and no amount of wild, reckless magic can match the discipline of a true mage.
The academy’s students watched, eager to see the clash between these two powerful forces. Celeste’s words were a challenge, not just to Hour, but to the very idea of freedom in magic itself.
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