Elias woke up to sunlight on his eyes.
He felt like he had been dragged through the very mud he usually tended. His muscles were stiff, a lingering side effect of the 'damping' magic he'd forced into the Prince the night before.
Then he saw the magical floating clock thingy.
"Shit."
He was twenty minutes late for his first Botany Core class.
He was already a week late. Twenty minutes wouldn't count right?
Being a week behind was a struggle; being late to the first lecture was a death sentence for his grades.
He scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over his boots. He didn't have time to properly wash. He splashed cold water on his face and washed his mouth hastily. As he gripped the edge of the stone basin, the center of his palm itched.
He ignored it. He had to.
He threw on a fresh tunic—purple silk, though the edges were slightly frayed compared to the gleaming garments of the high nobles—and sprinted out the door.
He hurriedly walked from the quiet of his dorms to the main hallway of the academy. The students swarmed like fishes each hurrying off to a class.
There was the smell of expensive perfumes, the clatter of leather boots on marble, and the low, constant hum of magic. No matter how high your family was in society, the rules here in Ravenholm applied to everybody.
Elias kept his head down. His moss-green hair was a mess, hiding the silver of his eyes. He didn't want to be seen now and cause a drama that would make him even more late.
He reached the Botany lecture hall of the just as the heavy oak doors were being pulled shut against late comers.
He slipped through the gap.
The room was large with lighting and humidity that was just right for plants. It was arranged like a semi circle theater with rows from top to bottom with the top being at the back. The seats were spaced a bit far form each other. A podium at the front for the teacher.
Hundreds of students sat in rows with their tables, their attention fixed on the front.
Usually, a Botany lecture was a dull affair. For the other students, it was a requirement that most nobles treated with bored disdain.
But not today.
Elias stood at the back for a moment, scanning the room. He saw Mina near the center, her head buried in her notes. She didn't see him. No one did.
Then, he saw the reason for the silence.
In the very front row, a vacuum of space had been carved out. At the center sat Cassian Thalorin.
Up close the night before, he had been a dying boy. Now, under the harsh morning light of the room, he looked like a god.
His white hair caught the sun, shimmering. His uniform was perfect. His posture was a statue straight.
But it was the empty seats around him that told the real story. No one dared to sit within three feet of him. It was a "Dead Zone" born of pure, fear.
Five seats on both sides and two rows back from where he sat, was empty.
The professor, a sarcastic man named Dr. Vane with fingers stained permanently green, cleared his throat.
"Mr. Thornbloom," Vane's voice was like dry parchment. "How kind of you to join us. After a week and twenty minutes. Do find a seat so we can begin the practical."
Elias felt the weight of hundreds pair of eyes. The gawking began instantly.
"Is that the Thornbloom boy?" a girl whispered, her voice carrying in the silent hall.
Probably a new student to ask such a question.
"I heard they're so broke they eat their own ornamental bulbs."
'Oh haha..'
"Look at his hair," another snickered. "He looks like he slept in a trench."
'Not my fault you know. I figuratively saved the world last night.'
Elias didn't flush. He didn't have the energy for shame. He just looked for a seat.
There were none.
Every row was packed to the gills—except for the front. The Dead Zone remained wide and inviting.
"Well?" Dr. Vane prompted, tapping his cane. "We haven't all day."
Elias moved. Every step down the stone stairs felt like a march to the gallows. He could feel the stares burning into his back. He reached the front row and, without looking at the Prince, sat down exactly two seats away from him.
The silence in the room became heavier than before.
Elias stared straight ahead at the chalkboard.
He could feel Cassian's presence to his right. It was a cold, like standing next to a glacier or an ice figure.
His palm itched. It was reacting to the proximity.
"Today," Dr. Vane announced, seemingly oblivious to the tension, "we discuss the 'Binding of the Core.' You have each been provided with a Silver-Leaf Sprout. These plants are temperamental. They feed on the emotional state of the grower. If you are chaotic, they wilt. If you are steady, they bloom."
A small, shimmering plant in a pot appeared on the desk in front of Elias. Its was still a small sprout.
"You will pair with the person next to you." Vane said. "One will provide the magic; the other will provide the dampening. Balance is everything."
Elias froze. Around him were empty chairs. And beyond was the Prince.
The rest of the class erupted into a flurry of movement as students scrambled to pair with their friends. Elias stayed still. He hoped Vane would forget him.
"Mr. Thalorin." Vane said, his voice dropping in respect. "As you are technically a visitor in this core, perhaps you would care to demonstrate with Mr. Thornbloom? Though he is late he has a bit of skill."
The noise died down instantly.
"With a Thornbloom?" someone hissed. "The Prince is going to kill him."
Cassian didn't move for a long time. Then, slowly, he turned his head.
His blood-red eyes met Elias's silver ones.
There was no recognition in them. No thanks. Just a cold, calculating look that seemed to pull the air out of Elias's lungs.
"Very well," Cassian said. His voice was smooth, regal, and entirely void of the rasping agony from the night before.
He stood and moved the one seat closer.
The smell of the room was replaced by Cassian's scent. It was citrus and expensive soap.
"Provide the magic, gardener," Cassian murmured. It was too low for the professor to hear.
Elias didn't look at him. He placed his hands around the Silver-Leaf Sprout.
His hands were still stained with dirt from the morning's rush. Beside them, Cassian's hands were pale, elegant, and unblemished.
Elias closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the gawking students or the Prince's judgment. He reached for his power.
It was a slow, heavy flow. He felt the sprout's anxiety. It was terrified of the cold energy radiating from the Prince.
Relax, Elias projected.
He felt Cassian's hand move. The Prince didn't touch the plant; he placed his hand over Elias's.
The contact was a shock. It felt like a bridge. The moment their skin met, the itch in Elias's palm flared into a searing heat.
He saw a flash of gold behind his eyelids. He felt the Prince's heart—fast, erratic, and burdened by the Ivy's hunger.
Elias didn't pull away. If he did, the Silver-Leaf Sprout would shatter and the prince's ivy might come out seeking for more of him.
He doubled down. He became the "Damper." He used his neutral, steady magic to soak up the Prince's instability. He channeled the heat of the Ivy into the soil of the pot, grounding it.
Under their joined hands, the Silver-Leaf Sprout transformed. The buds softened into glowing, translucent white petal. Bigger than any other.
The lecture hall went silent. Even Dr. Vane stopped talking.
"Remarkable." the professor whispered.
Cassian pulled his hand away as if he had been burned. He stared at the plant, then at his own palm, then at Elias.
For a split second, the royal mask slipped. Elias saw a flicker of genuine shock.
"A mistake." Cassian said loudly, his voice regaining its icy edge.
He stood up and walked out of the hall before the bell had even rung. He didn't look back.
Elias stayed in his seat, his hand still vibrating from the contact.
The gawking hadn't stopped; it had changed. It wasn't derision anymore. It was suspicion.
He looked down at the plant.
Everybody knew his plant magic was stronger than some high nobles. It was because he came from a family with a bloodline known for being plant mages. But nobody expected that he could damp and channel a royalty's magic.
Not even a little but enough for a full bloom. The plant was supposed to sprout silver petals for starters. It only bloomed white after years upon years of good nourishment. It was very hard but not impossible
"Next time we are using Greenhouse 1 for practicals. Class dismissed. Elias wait behind."
'Oh no~'