The Grave-Walker's Dirge

I woke to the smell of damp earth and lilies, standing at the funeral of a boy I watched die ten years ago. In my past life, I was the fool who held the line against the Charnel-Wraiths - a disposable meat shield who died in agony so the 'heroes' of the Morven Lodge could flee. Now, the Dirge-Weaver's Loom has spun me back to the beginning. Disguised as a mediocre Scavenger Rogue, I stalk the foggy, cobblestone courtyards of the academy with a quietly ruthless purpose. Let Pellam Ystmar flaunt his bought-and-paid-for enchanted armor; let the instructors sneer at my abysmal stats. I am a Grave-Walker, and the shadows are my domain. I bide my time, cultivating my true power in secret while a mysterious string of gruesome murders plagues the academy grounds. But my low profile shatters during the Grand Exhibition. When the Lodge unveils a dormant, legendary shadow-blade meant for Pellam, the weapon instead shatters its display, tearing through the hall to resonate violently in my grasp. The brutal murders and the waking blade are one and the same, but how long can I hide the monster I’ve become before the academy realizes the truth?