I look up to find a girl with lavender hair and an eclectic collection of crystals dangling from her ears grinning down at me. Without waiting for an answer, she plops down beside me, her various bangles creating a symphony of chimes.
"I'm Seren. And you're the new shadow mage everyone's talking about." Her smile grows wider. "Nice to meet someone else who doesn't fit the mold around here."
Before I can respond, Professor Idorath sweeps into the room, his pristine white robes a stark contrast to the chaos of his workspace. "Today, we begin with basic rune activation. Remember—precision is everything. One wrong stroke and—" He pauses for dramatic effect. "Well, let's just say the last student who made that mistake still hasn't regrown their eyebrows."
Seren leans over to whisper, "He's exaggerating. It was just one eyebrow."
Despite myself, I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
The task seems simple enough: inscribe a basic illumination rune and channel enough magic through it to create light. I stare at my parchment, trying to steady my hand as my shadows swirl around my fingers, making the simple lines wobble.
"Careful with the angle," Seren murmurs, her own rune glowing with a soft purple light. "Too sharp and it'll—"
My rune sparks violently, sending my inkwell flying. It would have splattered across three different students if my shadows hadn't instinctively caught it—only to drop it directly onto my own notes instead.
"Well," Seren says brightly, watching ink drip onto the floor, "at least you have good reflexes?"
"Miss Draven." Professor Idorath's voice cuts through the snickers. "Perhaps you'd care to explain how you managed to turn a simple illumination rune into what appears to be an ink fountain?"
My face burns. "I just—the angle was wrong, and then—"
"And then chaos ensued?" His eyebrow arches. "Shocking."
More laughter ripples through the class. My shadows twist tighter, and I can feel them plotting revenge. Please don't, I think desperately. Not now.
But it's too late. The shadows dart out, invisible to everyone else, and suddenly every inkwell in the room tips over simultaneously. Screams and curses fill the air as students scramble to save their notes.
"How did you—" Professor Idorath splutters, his own robes now sporting several ink stains.
"Not just one eyebrow this time," Seren whispers, barely containing her laughter as she helps me gather my things."Come on, let's get out of here before he remembers he can give detention."
In the hallway, I wait for the judgment, the fear, the inevitable distancing that always comes when my magic acts up. Instead, Seren links our arms together, still grinning.
"That," she declares, "was the most entertaining first class I've ever had. Usually we just blow things up or turn something the wrong color. But you?" She gestures at the chaos we've left behind. "You have style."
"I have no control is what I have," I mutter, but I can't help smiling back.
"Control's overrated. Trust me, half the stuff I enchant ends up singing opera or developing a personality." Seren pulls out her schedule. "Please tell me you have combat training next. I want to see what other havoc you can cause."
For the first time since arriving at Arcanum, I feel something loosen in my chest. My shadows settle slightly, curling around my feet like content cats.
I laugh. "Let's go. Probably shouldn't keep the chaos waiting."
Chapter 9
Kaia
Combat training is held in an open courtyard ringed with ancient stone pillars. Faint runes radiate along their surfaces, creating barriers to contain stray magic. Aspen is already there when I arrive, his lean form casually propped against one of the pillars.
"Who is that?" Seren whispers, eyebrows waggling as she openly admires him.
"Just Aspen," I reply, finally meeting his eyes and catching the knowing smirk playing across his lips. He definitely heard her.
"Ready to learn some actual shadow manipulation?" he asks, pushing off from the pillar with fluid grace.
Before I can answer, a wave of heat announces Torric's arrival.
"Wait, there's two of them?" Seren's excited whisper carries, making Aspen choke back a laugh.
