The disciple standing before the gate was unlike anyone William had encountered in his time at the academy.
Most prominent was his hair—shimmering locks of pure, vibrant gold that looked as though he had reached up, stolen a handful of sunbeams, and dyed his head with their radiance. It was a striking, almost ethereal feature that stood in stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.
His eyes were equally peculiar; though the irises were a deep, midnight black, they possessed a strange lustre that caught the light in flashes of metallic gold.
Aside from these celestial traits, however, his face was remarkably unremarkable. He had the features of a common man—the kind of face one might pass a dozen times on a crowded street and never once recall.
William frowned, his mind racing through the mental archives of his past life and current knowledge.
