Chapter 13 – Daily Life at the Academy
Morning bells chimed across the Academy as students poured from their dormitories, uniforms crisp, chatter filling the cobblestone paths. For most, routine had already set in: breakfast, classes, sparring, study halls, curfew.
For Fay Lorian, routine meant chaos.
He had overslept again. Not because he was lazy—though Ciel insisted otherwise—but because when he dreamed, his power sometimes leaked out. Last night, half the window panes had frosted over with dragon ice, while the floorboards had cracked with demonic flame.
When Ciel shook him awake, the room looked like the aftermath of a battle between seasons.
"Why… why is my bed frozen solid?" Ciel groaned, prying his blanket free.
Fay rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Oh… uh… I guess I dreamed of snow."
"Snow doesn't melt through stone!"
Fay chuckled sheepishly. "My bad."
---
At breakfast, Fay stacked his tray with more food than most warriors could finish: bread, meat, fruit, porridge, even three slices of cake. He scarfed it down happily while whispers spread.
"That's the boy who crushed the training dummy."
"The one who recited a forbidden incantation in History of Magic like it was nothing?"
"They say he can use demon fire."
"They say he can use everything."
Livia plopped down beside him with a mischievous grin. "You're trending again."
Fay blinked, cheeks stuffed with bread. "Trending?"
She leaned in. "The Academy has betting pools. Right now, the most popular is 'What will Fay destroy next?' My money's on the library roof."
"I'll do my best not to," Fay mumbled.
---
First class was Magical Applications, where Professor Yellin demonstrated elemental fusions.
"Now, observe: Fire and wind combine to create combustion magic. Water and earth create mud manipulation. These fusions are advanced—attempt them only after sufficient training."
He gestured for volunteers.
Several nobles tried, producing weak flames and sloppy mud. Then the professor's gaze fell on Fay.
"Lorian. Let's see your attempt."
Fay stepped forward, scratching his head. "Um… just the basics, right?"
He lifted his hand, and in an instant, flame and wind swirled together—not as a weak blaze, but as a roaring phoenix of crimson and gold that screeched across the hall.
Gasps erupted.
Before anyone could stop him, he added water and earth, then layered lightning and shadow, weaving them effortlessly. In seconds, an entire miniature ecosystem spun in his palm: firebirds diving into stormclouds, rivers flowing around mountains, sunlight piercing mist.
The class fell silent.
Fay tilted his head. "Was that too much?"
Professor Yellin collapsed into a chair, pale. "…Detention."
---
In Swordsmanship Class, students practiced the Twelve Imperial Forms, traditional techniques passed down for centuries. The instructor demonstrated a graceful overhead strike.
"Now, repeat after me. Slowly. With precision."
The nobles executed with elegance. Commoners struggled but tried their best.
Fay's turn came.
He picked up the training sword, adjusted his stance slightly, and performed the form. Except… it wasn't the Twelve Imperial Forms. It was something else.
Something purer. Cleaner. Every swing hummed with perfection, every step resonated with an ancient rhythm.
The instructor's jaw dropped. "That—… that's not possible."
"What?" Fay asked innocently. "This is just how the form was meant to be, right?"
The nobles bristled. "Are you saying centuries of refinement are wrong?"
Fay scratched his cheek. "I mean… I invented this one myself once, so—"
He froze, realizing too late what he'd admitted.
Ciel slapped a hand over his face in the back row. "Idiot…"
---
Lunch break was no better. Fay decided to try cooking with the Culinary Arts club, hoping for a quiet hobby.
It began well enough. He cracked eggs, sliced bread, stirred soup. But then his instincts took over. Instead of lighting the stove normally, he summoned demonflame—black fire that simmered without heat. To season the soup, he sang an elven incantation, infusing it with natural mana. For garnish, he used dwarven rune-engraving to etch flavor into the vegetables.
When he presented the dish, it glowed. Literally glowed.
The club president took one bite, eyes wide. "…This is the best thing I've ever tasted."
Then he collapsed.
The soup was so infused with raw magic it overwhelmed his circuits.
Fay panicked. "I-I didn't mean to! I just… wanted it to taste good!"
The nurse dragged the unconscious boy away, muttering. "Another one… Lorian, do not join Culinary Arts again."
---
Evenings in the dorm were supposed to be quiet. Students studied by candlelight, quills scratching across parchment.
Fay, however, was trying to help Ciel with homework.
"What's the formula for a stable barrier spell?" Ciel asked.
Fay shrugged. "There isn't one. The current formula is just a watered-down version of my original design."
"…Your original design?"
"Yeah. The actual structure uses twenty-three layers of overlapping runes, but if you don't compress them properly the whole thing implodes."
Ciel stared. "Fay… do you realize what you're saying?"
Fay tilted his head. "That I should simplify it for you?"
Ciel buried his face in his hands. "You're hopeless."
---
Despite the chaos, Fay was happy. Life as a commoner in the Academy wasn't peaceful, but it was lively. He had friends. He had rivals. He had meals that didn't taste like divine ambrosia for once.
Still, late at night, as he sat beneath the stars on the dorm roof, his crimson eyes thoughtful, he felt the weight of what he was hiding.
I created all this. Every spell, every art… they're mine. And yet I pretend to struggle like everyone else.
He clenched his fist, crimson aura flickering softly.
I wanted to be ordinary. But can I ever truly be?
Below, laughter echoed from the courtyard, where students played under lantern light. Fay smiled faintly.
Maybe… I don't need to be ordinary. Maybe I just need to live.
And somewhere in the shadows, the short figure of the Headmaster watched him, her eyes glimmering.
"He still hasn't realized it," she whispered. "That he's walking the line between myth and mortal. The day he does… the world will tremble again."
End of chapter 13