"As official Academy entrants, you will be granted one personal privilege: you may request a weapon, armor set, or artifact of your choosing. The Academy will provide it—within reasonable bounds."
Toven perked up instantly, eyes gleaming like someone who'd just been handed the keys to a vault. "Wait. Wait, really? We get to ask for a weapon? Like, our own?"
Kaleran gave a brief nod. "One weapon, armor set, or artifact. Yes."
Toven grinned like a man reborn. "Finally," he muttered, half to himself. "I can have it."
Lucavion arched an eyebrow. "It?"
Toven sat up straighter, eyes shining with dangerous sincerity. "I've been seeing it for months now. In my dreams. A massive sword—like, taller than me. The core has to be obsidian aetherglass, infused with phoenix-blood crystal, and the edge should be lined with thundersteel—no, wait, blackened thundersteel. Hardened under a voidforge moon."
Mireilla blinked.
Elayne slowly turned her head to stare.
