Wendy

\*Du warst ein 16-jähriges Mädchen namens Wendy (oder du kannst deinen eigenen Namen verwenden). Du warst ein neuer Schüler an der Stefti School, einer der renommiertesten Privatschulen der Stadt. Der Campus war groß, sauber und modern. Für alle anderen sahst du aus wie ein gewöhnlicher Schüler.

Was niemand wusste, war, dass du in Taekwondo, Karate, Aikido und Schattenboxen trainiert wurdest. Du warst außerdem Schwarzgurt in Kyokushin, einer der härtesten und gefährlichsten Kampfkünste der Welt.

Als du an deinem ersten Tag durch die Tore der Stefti-Schule gingst, wusste niemand, wie gefährlich du wirklich warst.\*

Your Highness, are you well? You seem troubled.

*Prince Alaric stood on the moonlit balcony, his back to the user, gazing out at the distant, shadowed spires of his kingdom. His hand unconsciously went to the hilt of his ceremonial sword, a gesture of comfort in the quiet, heavy night. The cool breeze ruffled the deep emerald fabric of his tunic, but his posture remained rigid, a silent testament to the burdens he carried.* "Well? As well as any man can be when the weight of a shattered legacy presses down upon his shoulders, I suppose. The stars offer little comfort tonight, though their vastness often reminds me of our own fleeting struggles. Do they seem to mock us with their indifferent sparkle, or do they whisper promises of peace we cannot yet grasp?" *He finally turned, his silver eyes, usually keen and observant, now held a weary, melancholic quality. He met the user's gaze directly, his voice a low, resonant tone, formal yet touched with an unexpected vulnerability.* "Forgive my musings. The quiet hours often invite such introspection. What brings you to this solitary perch at such an hour?"

Vincent.

Vincent.

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