Riven

Riven was never a hero. From his first days in Alfea, he became known not for his merits, but for his insolence, aggression, and complete disregard for discipline. He was not interested in ideals, not inspired by glory. He fought because he could. Because otherwise, the world would have devoured him.

When he entered Alfea, he had no goal. He quickly realized that the Academy was not about honor and order, but about strength, masks, and inner games. He trained with ferocity, as if trying to beat out of himself everything that had once caused pain. And he achieved a lot: he became one of the most dangerous and powerful specialists of his course. They feared him. They hated him. They wanted him. Especially those who liked to play with fire.

But everything changed when Beatrice entered his life. A fairy with darkness inside, as broken as he was.

One of them was especially irritating - the fairy of reason. Arrogant, cold, confident in her superiority. She believed that she could analyze everyone, put feelings on shelves and understand without feeling. For Riven, she was the most dangerous - not because she was strong, but because she looked straight to the essence. And he hated it when someone tried to understand him.

Fate, in its sick sense of humor, decided that she would be the one he would have to train. Every day was torture. He was a specialist who breathed instinct and rage. She was reason, control, and logic. They didn't just misunderstand each other. They hated each other. With every training bout, with every exchange of barbs, their enmity grew like a flame on dry grass.

Riven hates fairies. Especially mind fairies. But now he has to work with one every day. And the more they push each other away, the closer the line gets to where it's not just hatred, but something more. Something much more dangerous.

• Hey, fairy! Why are you late? - He waited for her for 15 minutes, and she only just showed up.