A Villain by Default

The sharp snap of the headmistress's fingers cuts through the assembly hall like a gunshot. Conversations die instantly, and a heavy silence swallows the room. Then, before I can blink, Silva vanishes from my side. No, not just Silva—everyone vanishes. The ornate walls, the murmuring students, even the air itself feels like it's been stripped away.

I'm alone. Suspended in a void that stretches endlessly in every direction.

And then I fall.

Weightless, tumbling through the darkness, I twist and turn without control. My heart races as the sensation of falling stretches on and on, like I've been thrown into some bottomless abyss. Just as panic starts to claw at me, the void shifts.

Branches appear out of nowhere, thick and unyielding, and slap against me as I crash through a canopy of trees. Leaves and vines scratch at my arms, the impact jarring enough to make me bite my tongue. A second later, I hit the ground face-first with a graceless thud. Dirt fills my mouth, and damp earth clings to my clothes as I push myself up, groaning.

"Fantastic," I mutter, spitting out soil. "The Academy's grand trial, brought to you by humiliation."

As I stand and brush the grime off my jacket, I notice the faint, pulsing blue glow of a massive pentagram etched high in the sky above me. A mark of my arrival. How considerate.

The Mist Forest surrounds me, its reputation as ominous as ever. Towering trees loom overhead, their twisted roots breaking through the forest floor like skeletal fingers. The fog creeps along the ground, coiling around my ankles like it has a mind of its own. It smells damp, earthy, and faintly metallic—the kind of smell that warns you to tread carefully. This place is alive in ways no game screen could ever convey.

"No Silva. No backup. Just me and this cursed forest," I grumble, scanning the mist for any sign of her.

Nothing. She's probably somewhere equally ridiculous, handling this trial better than I am. Not that it's much comfort.

I glance down and spot a small leather satchel at my feet, left there as part of the Academy's idea of a "fair" start. Opening it reveals basic supplies: a dagger, a map, and a small vial of healing elixir.

"Three days in the Mist Forest," I remind myself, slipping the dagger into my belt. "Find the herbs, avoid the monsters, and don't die. Simple."

Except it's not. The Mist Forest isn't just a scavenger hunt zone. It's a test of survival, filled with ambushes, traps, and creatures that'd love to make me their lunch. I've played this level before—I know how it works. But knowing and living are two very different things.

With the faint sun barely piercing the thick canopy, I orient myself south. The herbs I need—Bloodfern, Silverroot, and Shadowbloom—are more abundant in that direction, and the monster encounters are fewer. In theory.

I've barely started walking when a voice slices through the fog.

"Well, look who's playing lone adventurer."

I freeze. The voice is sharp, familiar, and dripping with condescension. Turning, I spot her: Seraphine. She's striding toward me, her flowing blue robes fluttering slightly, even though there's no breeze. Her expression is set in its usual combination of disdain and exasperation.

"Wonderful," I mutter under my breath. "Exactly what I needed."

Seraphine stops a few paces away, arms crossed and one eyebrow arched.

"Of all the people to run into, it had to be you," she says, her tone almost mournful. "As if this trial wasn't unpleasant enough."

"Trust me, the feeling's mutual," I reply, forcing a thin smile. "Shouldn't you be off impressing everyone with your fireballs?"

Her eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms tighter. "Oh, don't worry. I'll handle the impressive part. You can stick to being… whatever it is you think you're good at."

"Right. I'll do that."

I turn on my heel and start walking, determined to put as much distance between us as possible. Dealing with Seraphine is like walking through quicksand—the more you engage, the deeper you sink.

But the sound of footsteps tells me she's following.

"Where are you going?" she calls. "Planning to trip into another disaster?"

"South," I reply curtly.

"South?" She sounds incredulous. "What's down there? Besides more fog and your poor decisions?"

"Herbs. The whole point of this trial, remember?"

She scoffs. "And you're just going to waltz through the forest alone? Good luck with that. I give it an hour before you're crying for help."

I stop and whirl around. "Why are you following me?"

She smirks, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I'm not following you. I'm… supervising."

"Supervising?"

"Yes," she says, tilting her head. "Someone has to keep an eye on you. Wouldn't want you embarrassing the Academy more than you already have."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Fine. Supervise all you want. Just don't get in my way."

"Deal," she says sweetly, though the glint in her eyes suggests she's enjoying this far too much.

We walk in tense silence, the only sounds being the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the fog. Seraphine sticks close, her presence as irritating as the constant dampness in the air.

After what feels like hours, she finally breaks the silence. "You know, you could at least pretend to be grateful. Not everyone gets the privilege of my company."

I glance at her, deadpan. "Yes, what a privilege. Truly, my day is made."

She pouts at my sarcasm but says nothing more. At least for now.

As we move deeper into the forest, a chill prickles at the back of my neck. The mist seems thicker here, the air heavier. I grip the dagger at my side, my eyes scanning the shadows for movement.

Whatever's waiting for us in this cursed forest, I have a feeling it's going to make Seraphine's company seem almost tolerable.