The Last Godfall: Transmigrated as the Young Master

Vencian sat in the corner of the courtyard under the shade, one chair tilted against the wall. The dining hall's chatter reached faintly from the side. His head tipped back, eyes tracing the clear blue above, motionless enough to be mistaken for a corpse.

Elías spoke first. "You know, when I'm in lectures, I count the minutes till they end. But when they finally do, there's nothing to do. I start missing the boredom I was trying to escape."

Vencian didn't move. "Exams are coming soon. That should fix it."

Elías groaned. Rapheldor laughed, short and bright.

"Boring, though. He's right about that. Everything feels slow lately." Rapheldor said.

Vencian let a faint smile tug at his mouth. "Pereneth's still around. You can always start another fight with him."

Rapheldor's grin faltered. "That reputation's not fair. People call me a troublemaker, but half the time I'm trying to stop something stupid."

"Unsuccessfully," Elías said.

"That's not the point," Rapheldor replied, frowning.

Elías looked at Vencian. "You're picking on us both. You sure you're immune to boredom?"

Vencian lowered his gaze, pushing the chair legs back onto the ground. He looked at them.

Unemployed men with too much money. That's what they looked like to him. No jobs, no phones, no reason to move.

On the other hand, he had been occupied with training or searching for texts and knowledge that might help him unravel the mysteries now starting to give him headaches.

He shook his head.

Elías narrowed his eyes. "You thought something rude."

"Definitely," Rapheldor said. "He's got that face."

Vencian didn't answer.

Before the accusations gained ground, he said, "It won't stay dull. Something interesting's coming. The royal engagement."

That worked. Elías's face brightened. Rapheldor looked thoughtful.

"My father's already been told to handle the security," Rapheldor said. "It'll be grand. The biggest event of the year."

Vencian tilted his head. "You sound thrilled."

"Of course I am," Rapheldor said. "You'll be too, once it starts."

Elías smiled faintly. "It's a royal engagement. And no royal engagement is complete without some competition."

The air shifted. Rapheldor sat up, eyes lit. "You mean another tournament?"

"Something like that," Elías said. "They always add a spectacle."

Vencian exhaled through his nose. Celebration brings competition. Competition brings Rapheldor. He could already see his friend's excitement rising like steam.

Rapheldor slapped the table. "The last one was a sword fight. I hope they keep that. Nothing beats steel and blood to impress royalty."

Elías shrugged. "Could be anything this time. Archery, duels, races. Depends on who they want to flatter."

Rapheldor looked at Vencian. "What do you think? Shouldn't we give them a good show?"

Vencian smiled, uneasy. Good spectacle, my foot.

The only reason he'd attend was because his mother wanted him there, sitting in that sea of noble smiles.

His mind drifted. Two weeks since the village. Two weeks since the dead thing spoke his name.

Rapheldor's voice pulled him back. "Hey, Elías, what about Rulen? Haven't seen him in months."

Elías rested his chin on his hand. "He's still in Coraeis. You know him. He thinks the city's noise blocks his prayers."

"He's the same age as us," Rapheldor said. "But acts like an old priest."

"That's because he is one," Elías said dryly. "Well, almost. He'll arrive before the engagement. Said he wouldn't miss it."

Vencian leaned back again. Rulen, he thought. The devout one. If something strange happens, he'll call it divine.

A movement caught his attention. An attendant approached Elías and bent close to whisper something. Elías's smile stayed fixed, but a flicker passed through his eyes, then disappeared.

He stood. "Excuse me. Something's come up."

Rapheldor frowned. "Everything alright?"

"All fine," Elías said. "I'll see you both later."

He left at a brisk pace.

Rapheldor stretched. "My next lecture's in five minutes. If I'm late again, the instructor will throw a book at me."

Vencian waved a hand. "You'd deserve it."

Rapheldor grinned and left.

Silence fell again. The courtyard had emptied, the shade cool around him.

Vencian stared at the stone floor. His hand twitched once before settling on his knee. Two weeks, he thought again. No one alive knows what happened there. Except me.

He looked at his palm. A faint pulse ran through it, or maybe he imagined it.

The memory surfaced: the demigod's broken voice, the man named Jerenir, the flash before darkness. He did something to me. Changed something.

He looked across the courtyard. Roselys passed near the far gate, her uniform catching the faint breeze. She didn't look his way. They hadn't spoken since the return.

He'd tried to avoid it. Tried to think of her as another student. It hadn't worked.

She's an arkspren. That alone was enough to make her valuable. Powerful, too. She'd saved his life. He remembered the last moment—the chaos, the blood, her standing between him and the sashed man. Without her, he'd be gone.

Still, can you trust someone who can twist what you think without you knowing?

He couldn't.

But he might have to.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching the breeze move the leaves. Something's coming, he thought. Big enough to reach even here.

The man named Jerenir would come for what he'd taken.

He didn't know when.

But the air already felt too still, as if the day itself waited for a signal.

— — —

The day drained without meaning. Lectures came and went, meals slipped by, and the sun fell behind the main tower.

By evening, Vencian— now Lucian— sat at the small eatery near the southern region of the city. The air smelled of broth and wet stone. His posture was relaxed, but the illusion around him held firm—an ordinary student, brown hair, plain eyes, dull as paper. The magic had become routine, a mask that fit too well.

He stirred the empty cup before him, waiting. The crowd was thin, mostly workers and students talking in low voices.

When Sagiel arrived, he looked worn out, shoulders drooping under the weight of another pointless day. His coat hung open, and the dark circles under his eyes had deepened.

"You look half-dead," Vencian said.

"Feels accurate," Sagiel replied, taking the seat opposite. "Your timing's cruel, as always."

Vencian's eyes flicked up. It was about time Vencian received an update about the girl whose mystery in his life grew with each passing day.