The alarm went off at exactly six. My hand shot out from under the blanket before I even opened my eyes. I found the phone by touch and silenced the piercing sound with a single movement. The room fell quiet again. I lay there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling.
My first day of classes. Last night, the thought had still felt distant. Now there was no putting it off.
I sat up and put my feet on the cold floor. The sword was exactly where I had left it before going to sleep, beside the bed with the hilt facing me. At least some things stayed the same.
I quickly changed into the school uniform: black trousers, a white shirt, and a blazer bearing the academy emblem. The fabric was more comfortable than most clothes I had ever owned, but wearing it still made me feel slightly like someone else.
Before leaving, I checked the room. Window closed. Wardrobe shut. Sword hidden. Backpack over my shoulder. Only then did I step into the hall.
The dormitory was already awake. Doors opened one after another as students streamed toward the stairs. I recognized a few faces from yesterday’s room assignments, though mostly by appearance. I didn’t know their names, and for now I felt no need to change that.
Most of the people around me were boys. The female students lived in a separate building on the opposite side of campus, with the main academy building standing between the two dormitories. That was where everyone was heading now.
My room was at the very end of the corridor, so by the time I reached the stairs, I had passed nearly the entire floor. Several students were talking loudly among themselves. Others were trying to look as though the first day didn’t matter to them at all. No one spoke to me, which suited me perfectly.
I quickened my pace. Discipline was one of the academy’s evaluation criteria, and with my rank I couldn’t afford to arrive late or make any other pointless mistake. Strong students might be able to survive a few bad first impressions. I couldn’t.
The walk across the courtyard didn’t take long. The morning air was cold, and a light haze lingered between the buildings. A huge Asterion Academy crest hung above the main entrance, even more striking in the light of the rising sun than it had been yesterday.
Students passed beneath it in a steady stream. Some laughed loudly, while others kept glancing around to make sure they were heading in the right direction. I kept to the side.
The academy map I had received during enrollment was enough to get me to the correct floor, and the sign beside the door confirmed I had found the right place. First-year class. I checked the time. I still had a few minutes. Good.
I put my hand on the door handle and opened it. Most of the students were already inside. The classroom was larger than I had expected, with desks arranged in several long rows and tall windows along the left wall letting in the morning light. Some students stood beside their seats introducing themselves, while others sat quietly and watched the room.
Everyone hid their nerves differently. Some laughed too loudly, while others wore expressions of exaggerated confidence. My attention, however, was almost immediately drawn to two groups.
Victoria Draven stood near the windows. I recognized her by her long black hair and the silver family crest pinned to her blazer. She didn’t need to introduce herself. Almost everyone knew the Draven name.
A small crowd had already gathered around her. Some were trying to make her laugh, while others simply stayed close enough that someone might mistake them for part of her circle. All Victoria had to do was give a slight nod at someone’s comment, and whoever had spoken looked as though they had just secured a place at her side for life.
I couldn’t entirely blame them. She was beautiful. Not in a way that demanded attention from across the room, but with a quieter kind of presence that made you look once and then again, just to make sure. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and although her posture was relaxed, she never looked uncertain. Everyone else leaned toward her. She didn’t need to move at all.
After a brief inspection, I concluded that my classmates weren’t the only ones having trouble looking away. Rookie mistake. I shifted my attention to the other side of the classroom.
Lucius Blackwood was sitting there. Unlike Victoria, he wasn’t surrounded by laughter, but several students still stood in front of his desk. They weren’t speaking. They were simply waiting to see if he would address them.
Lucius leaned back in his chair as though he barely registered their presence. His chestnut hair was arranged with a precision that must have taken longer than my entire morning routine. His gaze moved slowly across the classroom before stopping briefly on Victoria. She noticed almost immediately. Their eyes met.
The conversations around them continued, yet the space between the two of them seemed to fall silent. Neither said anything. They didn’t need to. The tension between the Draven and Blackwood families was well known even to people who had no interest in politics. Both houses had enough money, influence, and relatives in the right places for their rivalry to reach far beyond a school classroom.
I didn’t know the details, and I had no desire to learn them. Their problems didn’t interest me. I had enough of my own.
Fortunately, there were still several empty seats in the back rows. I chose the last desk by the window. It was far enough from both groups while still giving me a clear view of the classroom, the door, and most of the students. Ideal.
I set my backpack beside the chair and sat down, then casually looked around. The last thing I wanted on my first day was to stare at someone too long and draw unnecessary attention to myself.
The back of the classroom was occupied mostly by students who, like me, didn’t seem to belong anywhere in particular. No famous family. No circle of admirers. Just people trying to get through the first day without embarrassing themselves, and perhaps find someone to spend their breaks with. I found myself smiling slightly. At least I wasn’t alone in that.
“Uh... I’m Finn.”
The voice came from my right. I turned my head. A tall, thin boy was sitting beside me. He was a little taller than I was, but his shoulders were narrow, and his hands rested uncertainly on the desk.
“Finn Carter,” he added.
From his tone, he wasn’t sure whether he was bothering me. I looked at him for a moment, probably a little longer than was polite. He waited.
“Eric.”
Finn smiled. It wasn’t a broad or overly friendly smile, just the expression of someone relieved that the other person hadn’t ignored him completely.
“Nice to meet you.”
I nodded. “You too.”
The last two words came out a little late, but Finn kept smiling, so maybe he didn’t notice.
Silence settled between us. At first, I assumed that was the end of the conversation. After a few seconds, though, I realized Finn was probably waiting for me to say something else. But what? The weather? The school? How long it had taken him to find the classroom?
Conversations like that didn’t exist in the business. People didn’t introduce themselves just to fill the silence. They exchanged names, roles, and the terms for splitting the reward, then entered the dungeon. Introductions weren’t important. What mattered was finishing the job and coming back alive.
But this wasn’t an expedition, and Finn didn’t look like someone who would be satisfied spending several hours silently walking beside a person he barely knew. I decided to make the first move.
“What’s your fighting style?”
Finn blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Your fighting style.”
“I heard you.” He paused for a moment. “I’m more surprised you asked.”
I shrugged. “Just curious.”
In reality, I was already forming an initial guess. Finn didn’t have the hands of someone who regularly handled a heavy weapon. There were no obvious calluses on his palms, and his forearms weren’t thick enough for someone used to carrying a large shield or axe for long periods.
His shoulders were relaxed, and when he turned, he didn’t waste movement. Even the way he sat lacked the heaviness I would have expected from a close-range fighter. More likely someone from the back line. A mage. Maybe a healer. A skinny tank wouldn’t make much sense.
Still, it was only a guess. Appearances were often misleading. I had met plenty of people in the business who looked harmless until they drew a weapon. One of the best tanks I had ever known barely came up to my shoulder. I laughed at him before our first fight together. I didn’t before the second.
Finn leaned slightly closer. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
An almost mysterious smile appeared on his face. It wasn’t an answer, but I didn’t see any reason to press him.
“Fine.”
I turned back toward the front of the classroom, and Finn did the same. Silence settled between us again. This time, it didn’t feel quite as awkward.
For now, that was enough.