“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you. It’s Sensei Kazuki Sato.”
I blink, confused. “Sato, as in Sakura Sato?” My face scrunches up in disbelief.
“Yeah, it’s her dad,” Nalaka says casually, like that wasn’t worth mentioning.
19
Avilyna
SMALL VICTORIES
We endup in the cafeteria. The place is massive, with towering windows overlooking a courtyard dotted with tables and quiet corners. Some students are huddled in booths, buried in books, while others crowd the food stations, picking through an array of unfamiliar meals.
As I pass by, I catch glimpses of dishes I can’t even begin to identify, glowing fruits, steaming meats wrapped in leaves, and something that looks suspiciously like fried tentacles. Eventually, I grab my plate, a mountain of chicken pesto pasta. Well, what I hope is chicken. Either way, I’m going to need the carbs if I have any hope of surviving whatever this class throws at me next. Nalaka and I sit down at one of the tables, and we start chatting. I learn that as long as you're a student here, your needs are covered by the Institute.
Insane, right?
Apparently, this policy is standard across all the learning academies in Elgar. No one ever argued about it because, in the end, an educated population is a less impoverished one. But more importantly, it gives those in charge an easy way to control what people learn. Not that anyone says it out loud. They justlet the kingdom's taxes cover the cost for every school—free education, with a side of control.
Once we’re done eating, we have exactly eight minutes before class restarts, just enough time for me to find the library. I’m in desperate need of some escapism. It sucks that I can’t use my e-reader, and the one book I managed to bring with me is not what I’m in the mood for right now. But at least the food here is better than anything I could’ve imagined.
The library is only one hallway to the left of the cafeteria. It’s almost too convenient, like they’re trying to tempt me. The urge to dive into the shelves, searching for my next cozy read, because, honestly, I need a break from all this fantasy shit. The real world’s starting to hit a little too close to fiction. But I show self-restraint, which, let’s be honest, is fucking astonishing when it comes to books.
As I walkinto the training area, my eyes are immediately drawn to the sparring matches happening all around me.
But then, there’s Kai.
He’s impossible to miss. The guy radiates this presence, as if he’s meant to be the center of attention. God, he moves as someone who’s got power and control down to an art. It’s mesmerizing, even though I’d never admit that out loud. His opponent is a literal beast. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscles straining beneath his training gear like he’s carved from stone. He radiates raw, brute strength, the kind you can’t fake.
His opponent lunges forward in a flurry of strikes, each one heavy and precise, trying to obliterate whatever’s in front of him. But Kai moves with a fluidity that borders on unreal. Every step,every shift is sharp and deliberate. Clearly, he’s been doing this his whole life. There’s a quiet, unnerving power in the way he counters, making it look effortless.
Heat coils low in my gut as I watch Kai dismantle his opponent with such ease. There’s a calm arrogance in his movements, a confidence that flirts with smugness. He’s reminding everyone, me included, that the Brackwells really are untouchable.
“Who’s Kai fighting?” I ask, eyes still locked on the match.
“That’s Liam. You’ve already met his cousin,” Nalaka replies. I shoot her a confused look. “The lycan who attacked you?”
The realization hits me, smouldering air from my lungs, shit, the guy whose hand Kai cut off. Then I recognize him as one of the boys snickering in the hallway. In all the chaos, I hadn’t really processed what happened until now.
“Yeah, Liam is Michael’s cousin. That’s why he’s going all out,” Nalaka adds, her tone a little more serious. Liam’s punches are heavy, deliberate, and aimed to overpower. But despite his size, he moves with surprising agility, closing the gap between him and Kai faster than I expected. I catch the flash of his pointed ears; he’s an elf.
That explains the speed.
“How is he Michael’s cousin if he’s an elf?” The question slips out before I think better of it. Nalaka glances around, making sure no one’s listening, before leaning in and answering quietly.
“It’s rare for us to mix, but when it happens, the next generation’s race isn’t guaranteed. It could be a mundane or one of the parents’ races. That’s why it’s prohibited and looked down upon.” I slowly process her words, the idea that fear of a mundane child, someone seen as lesser, has turned love into something shameful.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nalaka asks, her voice flat, but I can see the edges of her indifference slightly cracking. She knows it’s wrong, too.
“It’s horrible,” I breathe out.
“It is,” she agrees, her voice hardening a little. “A mundane child with only the sight would have a hard life in this world. Always vulnerable.” She delivers it, a fact, no room for debate, a well-known speech.
But I can’t help myself, “aren’t we all?”
Nalaka hesitates, her eyes locking with mine. There’s something there, resting on the tip of her tongue, but at the last minute, she holds on to it. “But at least we have a chance. A chance to make it.”
“So I guess same-sex couples are frowned upon?” I ask, one brow raised.
