Professor Nix raised an eyebrow, observing Damian with interest. This kid has some skills.
After class, Jasper waved off his friends' offers to escort him to the infirmary, claiming the cuts weren't deep enough to worry about. Damian had been quick, thorough—agile and precise, and each slice had been shallow but relentless, making it impossible for the bleeding to stop. Once he was patched up, Jasper returned to his room, stewing.
That kid was fast, he thought, but next time, I'll be ready. He sat heavily on his bed, sighing at the memory of his loss. Soon enough, word will reach Merton. Jasper, a noble of the Rancars family, felt the weight of his lineage pressing down on him. As an elman, his family's heritage was tied to the Ortycars, one of the royal families. In their tradition, noble surnames were crafted to echo those of the royals, marking allegiance and hierarchy. Though he had no claim to the family's inheritance, it meant Merton, as an Ortycar, held influence over him. And despite Damian's apparent strength, Jasper was sure of one thing—Damian wasn't under any noble family's line.
Weariness overtook him, and he shut his blinds and fell asleep.
The next day, after class, one of Jasper's friends delivered the news he had been dreading: Merton had summoned him. His heart sank as he climbed the stairs to the third year's wing, each step heavy under the pressure that thickened as he neared Merton's domain. Merton stood with a group of nobles, laughing at something he had said. But when he noticed Jasper, he waved his friends away, his expression unreadable.
"So, I heard you got yourself beaten," Merton began, his tone as light as ever, as he looked out toward the dark forest beyond the academy grounds.
"Yeah. He was pretty strong, though, for a commoner," Jasper admitted reluctantly.
Merton's lips curved into a slight smile, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "You don't need me to tell you how our world works, Jasper. Nobles don't lose to commoners. Remember that."
With that, he dismissed Jasper. But Merton watched him leave thoughtfully. The Rancars were a family on the fringe, often overlooked, and Merton saw potential in Jasper to change that. He wasn't like the other heirs who simply kept the lower nobles in line; he wanted to bring them together under his family's influence. A noble, regardless of rank, must never be outclassed by a commoner.
Jasper walked away, feeling a surge of determination. Merton, heir to the Ortycars family, had personally spoken to him. With newfound resolve, he went straight to the training center.
Meanwhile, Deimus couldn't stop chattering about Damian's fight. "Did you see him try to blind you with that dust? I nearly died laughing."
"Yeah, you and that laugh almost cost me focus," Damian chuckled. He hadn't expected to get along with anyone here, but Deimus was different—maybe because they shared similar interests.
"You know that guy was a noble, right?" Deimus asked.
"I figured," Damian replied with a shrug.
"It's easy to tell. They act like everyone outside their bloodlines is beneath them. They call us 'commoners' or worse."
Damian's thoughts flickered to the recent incident at the Heir Table. "So, because of their royal ties, they think they can do as they please? And the academy lets them?"
"Well, they fund a lot of this place. No one wants to bite the hand that feeds them," Deimus said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "But the headmaster, Professor Alaric, doesn't play by their rules. He's the only reason this place hasn't gone to ruin."
They reached the training center, and Deimus' eyes gleamed with mischief. "Come on, let's go check out the beasts' pens. We could sneak into the red or violet sections for a look at the real monsters."
"Are you insane?" Damian shook his head, incredulous. "We're neophytes! I don't know what goes on in that head of yours." They both laughed and then parted ways.
Later, the librarian's pointed throat-clearing jolted Damian out of his reading. She looked down at him, her gray hair catching the dim light. "Do you have any idea what time it is, young man?" She gestured around the empty library.
Past curfew!
Damian shut the Codex with a snap. "Sorry, ma'am. I'll head out now." He hurried out, keeping to the shadows to avoid being seen by the senior patrols gliding above on their floating disks. He was nearly to his building when he saw the seniors gathered in front of the entrance.
Thinking quickly, he crouched in the bushes, blending in as best he could. The ground beneath him suddenly softened, and before he knew it, his feet were sinking into the earth.