The corridor outside the office was quieter, the air lighter after the heavy conversation with the Principal. Just as Aira let out a shaky breath, a woman in a crisp black uniform approached them. Her steps were sharp, precise, her dark hair pinned neatly at the back of her head.
"You must be Aira," she said with a polite smile. "I'm the Principal's assistant. Good thing you two already met, because you'll be roommates."
Aira blinked, startled. She looked at Zara, who grinned. "See? Fate."
The assistant handed them each a small brass key before striding away, her heels clicking against the stone floor.
Zara tugged Aira down another hallway lined with arched windows, chatting all the way. When they reached their dorm, she unlocked the door with a flourish. "Welcome home, roomie!"
Aira stepped inside—and stopped.
The room was massive. Far bigger than she expected for a dorm, and far bigger than her bedroom back home. Two canopy beds stood on opposite ends, sheets folded neatly, with golden light spilling in from floating crystal lamps. A bookshelf was already filled with leather-bound tomes, and there was even a balcony overlooking the misty grounds. Everything looked so… put together, as if it had been waiting for them.
She set her bag down slowly, her throat tight. Her parents' bakery flashed in her mind—the small, warm shop filled with the smell of bread and sugar. They weren't rich, not by a long shot, but they were enough. Home was simple. This… this was another world entirely.
She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers twisting the blanket. She'd never really thought about her future before—what she wanted to be, what she wanted to do. Now, with these abilities tangled up inside her, it felt like her fate was already written in ink she couldn't read.
Zara flopped onto her own bed, stretching. "Crazy, right? These rooms are nicer than half the noble estates outside the gates."
Aira hesitated, then asked the question gnawing at her. "That guy. The one standing beside the Principal. She never introduced him. Who is he?"
Zara rolled onto her side, smirking knowingly. "Oh, you noticed him, huh?"
Aira's cheeks warmed. "He was… hard not to notice."
"That," Zara said, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret, "is Aelric. He's the Class President. You'll meet him tomorrow in class"
Aira was still trying to shake off the memory of Aelric's smirk when the dorm door banged open.
Four girls spilled into the room, all talking at once. They were around Aira and Zara's age, each one different, yet together they seemed like they belonged—like they already fit into this world Aira felt shut out of.
"New faces!" one of them said brightly. She had short auburn hair and an eager smile. "I'm Rumi. We're your neighbors."
"I'm Sophie," another chimed in, her voice smooth and practiced, her blonde curls bouncing as she stepped closer. "And these are Sunnie and Flora."
"Hi!" Sunnie waved cheerfully, while Flora offered only a shy nod.
Aira managed a stiff smile, her hand tightening on her bedsheet. The room suddenly felt smaller, their voices pressing in around her.
"So," Sophie leaned closer, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "What's your ability? Everyone has one. What's yours?"
"Yeah," Rumi added quickly. "And how'd you get in during the middle of the semester? That almost never happens."
Their questions tumbled over each other, fast, excited, expectant. Aira's throat closed up. The words wouldn't come. She hated how her pulse hammered in her ears, how the shadows she longed for were nowhere in sight in this too-bright room.
Zara noticed. She sat up sharply. "Hey. Back off a little, will you? Aira's new. She doesn't know anyone yet, and you're overwhelming her."
The girls exchanged glances, a little surprised, but Rumi gave a sheepish shrug. "Sorry. We didn't mean to push."
"Yeah, sorry," Sunnie added softly.
Flora tugged at Sophie's sleeve, and one by one they began to drift toward the door, still murmuring among themselves. "We'll see you around, Aira," Sophie said with a smile that carried more curiosity than apology.
When the door finally closed, silence wrapped around the room again.
Aira exhaled shakily, her shoulders stiff. She wasn't used to so many people, so many questions, so much noise. Back home, she had always preferred the quiet—the stillness of empty corners, the hush of darkness where no one asked her anything.
But here, in this bright and perfect dorm, silence felt impossible.
Aira barely slept that night. The bed was softer than anything she had at home, but her mind would not quiet. Shadows curled in the corners of the ceiling, her chest felt heavy, and the whisper in her head returned again and again…
When morning came, she was still curled up, pretending to be asleep. But Zara didn't buy it.
"Up," Zara said cheerfully, tugging on her blanket. "Breakfast. You're not skipping it."
"I'm not hungry," Aira muttered.
"You will be once you smell the food," Zara teased, practically dragging her out of bed.
The canteen was like nothing Aira had ever seen. It reminded her of one of those old fantasy films—the ceiling arched high above like the sky itself, enchanted chandeliers glowing with soft golden fire. Long rows of tables stretched across the massive hall, students filling them in clusters of chatter and laughter. Food shimmered into existence on silver platters—bread steaming, fruits glittering like jewels, glasses refilling themselves when emptied.
Aira hesitated by the door. It was too much. Too many people. Too many eyes.
"Come on," Zara whispered, tugging her gently toward an empty spot. "No one cares what you're doing. They're too busy stuffing their faces."
Still, Aira sat stiff, her appetite gone. She picked at a piece of bread, but her gaze kept drifting over the students—so many, with abilities hidden beneath ordinary appearances. The weight of it pressed on her chest.
After breakfast, Zara pulled her along again. "Class time."
Aira's stomach sank.
The Academy was split into only three levels of classes, but each was vast, filled with dozens of students. The Principal had explained it last night:
Level One — Novices. Here, students spent more than two years simply learning what their abilities even were, and how to control them. Most never moved past this stage. It was where Aira would start.
Level Two — Adepts. Those who progressed came here, where training went beyond control—they were pushed to use their abilities on others, to test, to fight, to weaponize.
Level Three — Vanguards. The hardest, and the most dangerous. Students here weren't just training anymore—they were working. Missions from the government, assignments that touched the real world. Some students were chosen. Others disappeared.
The Principal hadn't said it out loud, but the implication was clear: if someone's power was too destructive, the government decided what to do with them. No one at the Academy spoke about where those students went.
Aira shivered as she stepped into the wide classroom for Level One. The walls shimmered faintly with wards, protective runes curling across the stone, as if to contain whatever might happen inside.
The classroom buzzed with energy the moment Aira stepped inside. It wasn't like an ordinary class at all—it was chaos dressed up as order.
On one side of the room, three pale students sat together, their skin almost translucent, eyes faintly glowing red. Aira's chest tightened when she realized what they were. Vampires. Their movements were unnaturally smooth, too fast even in stillness, and when one of them tilted his head, she caught a glimpse of sharpened canines. Zara leaned close and whispered, "They need blood to survive, but they take these government meds so they don't go wild. Stronger than any normal human. Double the strength, double the speed. But the sun? Not without their meds."
Aira swallowed hard.
On the other side of the room, three wolf-like kids lounged together, laughing too loudly. Their ears were sharp, almost animal, and Aira noticed their shadows twitching on the floor as if alive. Zara pointed casually, "Werewolves. Well, kind of. One of them can even go invisible. You'll never see him coming unless he wants you to."
Before Aira could respond, Zara suddenly announced in a voice far too cheerful, "This is Aira, by the way! My new bestie!"
Aira froze, her face heating. Bestie? They'd only known each other for one day. The word felt too heavy, too close, like clothes that didn't fit. She nodded stiffly, mumbling a hello, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.
And then she felt it. That gaze.
Her head turned almost on its own—and there he was.
Aelric.
He stood near the front of the room, leaning back against the desk like he owned the place. His dark hair fell carelessly over sharp features, and when his eyes caught hers, he smirked—slow, deliberate, like he was already inside her head. Aira's stomach twisted, her breath catching.
Zara nudged her. "Don't worry. That's Aelric. He's our class president. His powers are… well, kind of terrifying. Super hearing—he can pick up a whisper from across the room. And…" She lowered her voice dramatically, "he can manipulate people. Make them obey him. Like… whatever he says, you do."
Aira's skin crawled. The voice in her head hissed immediately: He'll own you. Burn him before he tries.
But Zara laughed lightly, brushing it off. "Don't look so scared. He's actually nice, trust me. He doesn't use it unless he has to."
Nice. Aira didn't believe that for a second. Especially not with the way his smirk lingered, like he was already testing her, waiting for her to slip.