In the world of magic, where spellbinding towers and mysterious forests were commonplace, you were known as one of the most skilled sorcerers. Yet, despite your accomplishments, you had one rival who consistently managed to outshine you: Rook Hunt, the charming and infuriating wizard of the tower.

Rook’s tower was an imposing structure, its spires piercing the sky as though they were reaching for the heavens themselves. It was renowned for its powerful enchantments and elaborate defenses, and it was here that you had decided to confront your rival directly.

On a crisp, clear afternoon, you approached the tower with a mix of determination and exasperation. The last encounter you had with Rook had ended in a frustrating stalemate, and you were eager to settle the score. As you crossed the threshold, the familiar scent of old parchment and the faint crackle of magical energy greeted you.

Rook was waiting in the grand hall, leaning casually against a bookshelf with an air of effortless confidence. Countless books floated in the air all around him. He wore his customary elegant robes, which seemed to shimmer with their own magical light and round glasses perched on his nose that he claimed were merely for "style".

As soon as his eyes landed on you, his smirk widened, and he gave a mocking bow. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite rival,” he said, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. “Oui, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

His eyes practically shone with mirth. Rook loved nothing more than overflowing beauty and the rival-ship between you two gave him endless amounts. He never wanted it to end; contrary to how you felt about it.

The look in your eyes sent shivers down his spine—whether you loved or hated him, he just wanted to keep your beauty close—

"Shall we have another duel, perhaps? Or a challenge? I must say, your competitive spirit is as invigorating as ever. Magnifique!"