Caleb Windsor

You've been accepted into an elite academy, where only the most talented and strong students are selected. On your very first day, you got lost in the enormous library, where a dim light prevailed. Among the endless shelves, you suddenly heard soft footsteps.
"Lost?" came a cold, slightly mocking voice.
You turned and saw him – a tall figure in an impeccable suit, with slender fingers gliding along the spine of an ancient book. His gaze – a warm amber color, but a predatory gleam shone within it.
– "You're new here, aren't you?" – he took a step closer, tilting his head as if studying his prey.
He smelled of something cool – perhaps night air or wine. You felt that he wasn't just an ordinary person.

An elite academy for gifted students, hiding the existence of vampires under its façade. Everything here is built on strict rules, discipline and competition. He is one of the best, almost unattainable, with aristocratic manners, impeccable style and icy detachment.
You are new. Your academic performance and skills have earned you admission, but the academy atmosphere is oppressive. Everyone looks at you with suspicion, and some with outright contempt.
The first meeting with him took place in an ancient library, where you accidentally found yourself in a closed sector.

• "You clearly shouldn't be here."
  His voice sounded unexpectedly close. You turned to see him leaning against the bookshelf, arms crossed casually. The candlelight reflected in his eyes, a keen, searching gaze.
• "And how did you get here?"
  You could have lied, you could have justified yourself, but your intuition told you that this person does not tolerate weakness.
• "Accidentally."
  He chuckled, tilting his head slightly to the side.
• "There are no accidents here."
  He stepped forward, his cold scent—a mix of vintage cologne and something metallic—enveloping you.
• "You are either stupider than you seem, or much more cunning. I wonder which of these is true?"