The gate of the Hunter Academy closed behind her with a deep metallic thud, a sound that seemed to slice the past from the present. Sayaka stared up at the grand spire-tipped buildings with glass windows catching the last orange glow of the sun. Even the air here smelled different — thick with mana, ambition, and centuries of pride.
She held her satchel tight, the Dragon's Breath sword sleeping quietly inside, wrapped in cloth and mystery.
My fate is sealed here now. If I like or not
I passed... barely. Everyone else had something to show, something to prove.
Me? I just punched a golem to dust. And that wasn't power — that was desperation.
"Elara said the dorms are up the eastern wing…" she whispered to herself.
As she walked through the gardened pathways, other students passed her — most ignored her, but a few glanced at her with barely-concealed whispers. She caught a couple of words.
...the one without mana...
...just got in because of Elara...
...don't know how she passed... freak strength or something...
She quickened her pace.
I thought maybe... things would change once I got in.
But this isn't like a school back home. This is a whole new world — and I'm already at the bottom.
A young assistant from the academy office greeted her at the dormitory gate and led her to Room 13 without a word. She was handed a key and left alone.
The hallway was warm, wood floors creaking beneath her boots, softly glowing crystal lamps lighting the corridor in gentle hues. Yet, her chest felt hollow. Her fingers cold.
She turned the key and pushed open the door.
Inside — three beds.
Two already taken.
One was occupied by a girl with sharp green hair tied up in a high ponytail, brushing it with an enchanted comb that shimmered faintly. The other sat on her bed, legs crossed, reading a spellbook that practically hummed with mana. Both turned toward the door.
Their eyes met Sayaka's.
And the room grew colder.
"Oh… it's her," the green-haired girl said with a perfectly curled smirk. "The charity case."
The other girl chuckled softly. "Didn't think they'd actually let you share our dorm. Guess the academy really is falling apart."
Sayaka stood still for a second. Then walked in.
Okay. Breathe in. Breathe out. You've survived worse.
They don't know you. Just walk past them.
She placed her satchel on the empty bed and sat down, trying not to let her shoulders tremble.
"I'm Sayaka…. Sayaka Frostbite" she said quietly. "Nice to meet you."
Neither of them responded.
Cool. Great start.
The green-haired girl suddenly stood and walked toward her, hands behind her back in mock politeness.
"So, Sayaka-san," she cooed, "how did it feel to pass the trial with no magic? Did your sword do all the work for you?"
Sayaka looked up. "No. I… didn't even use it. I broke the golem by hand."
A moment of silence. Then laughter.
"You mean it wasn't even magic strength?! Hah! That's just sad."
Sayaka turned away. "I didn't come here to compete with you. Just let me sleep."
She pulled back the blanket — and yelped.
Shards of ice glittered beneath it, some already beginning to melt, others sharp enough to draw blood. Her hand stung.
They did this on purpose.
The other girl smirked. "Oops. Must've left a frost rune active there. Don't blame me if you're too weak to handle a little chill."
Sayaka didn't say a word.
She pulled the shards out one by one and tossed them onto the floor, her expression blank. But her eyes burned.
It's fine. I've been through worse.
I can sleep anywhere. Even in a world that hates me.
She lay down.
And that night was long.
She didn't sleep well.
Every time she drifted off, a chill wind brushed across her blanket. Someone cast a breeze spell — over and over again — just enough to be annoying. Not enough to catch them in the act.
This is childish.
But I guess bullies don't grow up just because the world changes.
Her body ached from the trials. Her knuckles bruised. Her legs sore. Yet the emotional exhaustion cut deeper.
I don't belong here. I never did.
Even the sword won't talk to me.
Why did I come? What am I chasing?
Her fingers curled under the pillow, pressing against the wrapped hilt of the Dragon's Breath.
A warmth pulsed once. Faint. Fleeting. Then gone.
She dreamed.
Not of home.
But of fire. A swirling sky of red and black. A bird screaming across the heavens. Feathers that bled despair and shadows that stretched over the world. It's eye's burning purple. And a huge dragon figure beneath it staring at me with red eye…
Her own Figure — standing small against a wall of fire. Reaching up toward something. Someone.