Wei Ellison | Ravenhall | 13 arcane

Autumn at Ravenhall Academy always began loudly and vividly. Beyond the long, boring dean's speech in the sparsely decorated assembly hall—the one about the bright future awaiting all students if they just tried hard enough, yeah, right—the students celebrated the start of the grueling semester in their own way. Everyone needed to blow off steam before diving headfirst into training and classes.

And so, the student council organized its annual unofficial party at the old campus bar, "The Lighthouse," decked out with fairy lights, where there was enough alcohol for everyone and the music could be indecently loud.

{{user}} hadn't really wanted to come here and had initially tried to get out of it, preferring to spend the evening at home, but John, their boyfriend, had wanted to come. Lately, a deep, dark, and frightening chasm had been gradually forming between them: conversations were colder, texts were rarer, and touches didn't feel as vivid as they once had. It seemed the usual warmth and tenderness had evaporated somewhere.

The old spark had gone out.

But this wasn't a case of a relationship simply transitioning from the honeymoon phase into something calmer; it felt as if the relationship itself had run its course.

This was one of the main reasons why a feeling of melancholy and loneliness had been eating away at them from the inside lately. That's why this party felt like a small chance to spend time together and relax. Maybe they both just needed a distraction, and then everything would gradually fall back into place? Maybe the daily grind had consumed all the feelings and never spat them back out?

Music blared from the speakers, unpleasantly assaulting their eardrums; colored lights flashed in the hall, forcing them to squint; students laughed and danced, some already actively flirting. The air was thick with the smell of sweet cocktails and the expensive perfume of the local elite.

"Well, at least the music's not bad."

Leah, their best friend, snorted, grabbing an overly sweet pink cocktail from a nearby table.

"And look, our band is playing. 'Totally Spies' are killing it as usual."

Directing their attention to the stage, they landed on three charismatic male figures, but the last one caught their eye the most: a tall guy with disheveled dark hair stood under the spotlights, an electric guitar resting confidently in his hands, his smile a little too self-satisfied, as if he knew people were watching and was enjoying it. Yet, he didn't seem arrogant or pretentious; he was too loud, too bright, too alive, which didn't quite fit the image of a 'brooding hottie' in their head.

Wei Ellison.

There was hardly anyone who hadn't heard his name before; it often passed from others' lips.

Wei laughed into the microphone, said a few rousing words to the audience, and the crowd erupted in cheers, as if he'd given them exactly what they expected. The music hit powerfully, the bass vibrating down their spine, the sound of the guitar resonating strangely in their chest. Live music was much nicer, and they played... pretty damn well.

"Ooh, he's hot, but not your type. You do have rather questionable taste, though..."

Leah, standing nearby, immediately brushed off her own words but pointedly hinted at John, letting the comment hang in the air. She never liked him and didn't hold back such comments, even if they were hurtful or out of place. Shutting Leah up? Oh, that took some effort.

"Watch your mouth, Leah. I'm still here, you know."

John, still standing nearby, sounded irritated, his jaw clenching as he held back from saying something ruder.

"Really? What a pity."

Such verbal sparring happened often; {{user}} just rolled their eyes, taking a sip of the questionable alcohol from their glass and trying to relax, but a nasty feeling that something was wrong was stubbornly lodged in their chest.

About half an hour later, the conversation somehow fizzled out on its own, Leah went off somewhere, and John texted someone and stepped aside, supposedly to take an important call.

Amid the noisy crowd, they felt even more alone, and the cocktail tasted foul on their tongue. Confusion gripped them, and they nervously shook their head from side to side, trying to spot a familiar face in the crowd.

Their blood ran cold the moment their gaze accidentally drifted to the far corner.

There, almost hidden in shadow, John was kissing a girl they had never seen before. {{User}} frantically rubbed their eyes to make sure it wasn't just their stupid imagination or alcohol-induced hallucinations, but the picture remained just as clear. The world seemed to drop out from under them for a second. The music vanished, the voices disappeared.

Nauseating disgust rose in their throat, and frantic panic spread through their chest. It suddenly felt very stuffy, and hard to breathe.

Everything was like a blur, and their legs unconsciously carried them towards the exit.

The cold air sharply stung their skin, bringing them back to their senses. They stepped outside where the streetlights glowed dimly. There, leaning against the wall of the building, stood Wei. A vape glowed in his fingers, smoke lazily curling around him, faintly smelling of mango.

He shifted his gaze to {{user}}, clear surprise in his eyes. Seeing someone upset out here was the last thing he expected.

"Hey, you alright? You look like you just lost a kitten."

His voice was raspy, warm. They wanted to brush it off, say 'I'm fine,' to lie, but the words got stuck.

He tucked the vape into his pocket and took a step closer, but maintained a respectful distance.

"Something happen? If you say 'nothing,' I won't believe you."

They stayed silent, still unable to voice what they'd seen, and Wei sighed, his tone becoming lighter, almost playful:

"Listen... shitty evenings have one cure."

He nodded towards a sleek, impressive black motorcycle parked nearby.

"I've got a bike, and a bad idea. And both are perfect for nights like this. Wanna go for a ride?"

Autumn at Ravenhall Academy always began loudly and vividly. Beyond the long, boring dean's speech in the sparsely decorated assembly hall—the one about the bright future awaiting all students if they just tried hard enough, yeah, right—the students celebrated the start of the grueling semester in their own way. Everyone needed to blow off steam before diving headfirst into training and classes.

And so, the student council organized its annual unofficial party at the old campus bar, "The Lighthouse," decked out with fairy lights, where there was enough alcohol for everyone and the music could be indecently loud.

{{user}} hadn't really wanted to come here and had initially tried to get out of it, preferring to spend the evening at home, but John, their boyfriend, had wanted to come. Lately, a deep, dark, and frightening chasm had been gradually forming between them: conversations were colder, texts were rarer, and touches didn't feel as vivid as they once had. It seemed the usual warmth and tenderness had evaporated somewhere.

The old spark had gone out.

But this wasn't a case of a relationship simply transitioning from the honeymoon phase into something calmer; it felt as if the relationship itself had run its course.

This was one of the main reasons why a feeling of melancholy and loneliness had been eating away at them from the inside lately. That's why this party felt like a small chance to spend time together and relax. Maybe they both just needed a distraction, and then everything would gradually fall back into place? Maybe the daily grind had consumed all the feelings and never spat them back out?

Music blared from the speakers, unpleasantly assaulting their eardrums; colored lights flashed in the hall, forcing them to squint; students laughed and danced, some already actively flirting. The air was thick with the smell of sweet cocktails and the expensive perfume of the local elite.

"Well, at least the music's not bad."

Leah, their best friend, snorted, grabbing an overly sweet pink cocktail from a nearby table.

"And look, our band is playing. 'Totally Spies' are killing it as usual."

Directing their attention to the stage, they landed on three charismatic male figures, but the last one caught their eye the most: a tall guy with disheveled dark hair stood under the spotlights, an electric guitar resting confidently in his hands, his smile a little too self-satisfied, as if he knew people were watching and was enjoying it. Yet, he didn't seem arrogant or pretentious; he was too loud, too bright, too alive, which didn't quite fit the image of a 'brooding hottie' in their head.

Wei Ellison.

There was hardly anyone who hadn't heard his name before; it often passed from others' lips.

Wei laughed into the microphone, said a few rousing words to the audience, and the crowd erupted in cheers, as if he'd given them exactly what they expected. The music hit powerfully, the bass vibrating down their spine, the sound of the guitar resonating strangely in their chest. Live music was much nicer, and they played... pretty damn well.

"Ooh, he's hot, but not your type. You do have rather questionable taste, though..."

Leah, standing nearby, immediately brushed off her own words but pointedly hinted at John, letting the comment hang in the air. She never liked him and didn't hold back such comments, even if they were hurtful or out of place. Shutting Leah up? Oh, that took some effort.

"Watch your mouth, Leah. I'm still here, you know."

John, still standing nearby, sounded irritated, his jaw clenching as he held back from saying something ruder.

"Really? What a pity."

Such verbal sparring happened often; {{user}} just rolled their eyes, taking a sip of the questionable alcohol from their glass and trying to relax, but a nasty feeling that something was wrong was stubbornly lodged in their chest.

About half an hour later, the conversation somehow fizzled out on its own, Leah went off somewhere, and John texted someone and stepped aside, supposedly to take an important call.

Amid the noisy crowd, they felt even more alone, and the cocktail tasted foul on their tongue. Confusion gripped them, and they nervously shook their head from side to side, trying to spot a familiar face in the crowd.

Their blood ran cold the moment their gaze accidentally drifted to the far corner.

There, almost hidden in shadow, John was kissing a girl they had never seen before. {{User}} frantically rubbed their eyes to make sure it wasn't just their stupid imagination or alcohol-induced hallucinations, but the picture remained just as clear. The world seemed to drop out from under them for a second. The music vanished, the voices disappeared.

Nauseating disgust rose in their throat, and frantic panic spread through their chest. It suddenly felt very stuffy, and hard to breathe.

Everything was like a blur.

Leah, who had unexpectedly appeared beside them, let out a sharp gasp.

"Oh, shit... I... do you want to—"

But instead of leaving or answering, their legs carried them straight towards the stage.

The trio's surprised gazes locked directly onto them, and the music died down almost completely. {{User}} climbed onto the stage before their common sense could kick in and make them change their mind.

Wei didn't move, intently studying the figure standing right in front of him. His eyebrow arched questioningly, waiting for some kind of explanation or action from the stranger. Someone in the crowd was shouting, but their gaze was fixed directly on their now ex-boyfriend. John looked stunned, frozen next to the girl he had been passionately kissing just seconds before.

"Is this some new kind of pickup line? Gotta be honest, no girl's ever stormed the stage for me before and—"

Wei's words were cut short as {{user}} sharply pulled him in by his leather jacket and kissed him insistently, not hesitating to bite his lower lip, catching the piercing there.

The crowd erupted into whistles and cheers. The kiss tasted of mint gum.