The next morning, Jorel awoke to the familiar chill of Raven House, the heavy silence of the early hours pressing down on him. His body ached from the trials of the previous day, but he forced himself out of bed, knowing that another day at E&R University awaited him. The dark, gothic atmosphere of the dormitory did little to ease the tension that had settled in his mind.
Ryen was already up, sitting on the edge of his bed and rubbing his eyes. He looked as exhausted as Jorel felt, but there was a determined set to his jaw.
"Ready for another round?" Ryen asked, his voice thick with fatigue.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Jorel replied, pulling on his uniform. The fabric felt heavy against his skin, a constant reminder of the weight of expectations that came with it.
They made their way to the dining hall, where the students from all three houses gathered for breakfast. The hall was a vast, cavernous space, with long wooden tables stretching from one end to the other. The banners of Raven, Falcon, and Eagle hung from the walls, the symbols of each house casting shadows over the students below.
The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with unspoken rivalries and the ever-present pressure to perform. Jorel and Ryen found seats at the Raven House table, joining a group of other first-year students who were equally quiet and focused.
As they ate, Jorel's thoughts drifted to the girl with red hair. He had seen her at Combat Training, standing alone, watching with those sharp, unreadable eyes. There was something about her that intrigued him, something that made him want to know more. But she was an enigma, a mystery that seemed content to remain unsolved.
The breakfast was a simple affair—bread, porridge, and dried fruit—but Jorel ate quickly, knowing that they would need their strength for the day ahead. The other students at the table ate in silence, their minds clearly occupied with the same thoughts.
As they finished their meal, Siera appeared at the end of the table, her expression as stern and unreadable as ever. "When you're done, follow me. We have a lot to cover today."
Jorel and Ryen exchanged a glance before standing and following Siera out of the dining hall. The other Raven House students fell in line behind them, their footsteps echoing through the stone corridors as they made their way to their next class.
The day's schedule included a mix of General Education and Advanced Studies classes. The first class was History of Pain Magic, a subject that Jorel found both fascinating and disturbing. The classroom was a smaller, more intimate space compared to the grand halls they had seen so far. The walls were lined with shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, and the room was dimly lit by flickering candles.
Their instructor was an older woman with gray hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her sharp eyes and precise movements spoke of a lifetime of discipline and knowledge.
"Today, we will begin with the origins of pain magic," she began, her voice carrying the weight of centuries of history. "Pain magic is not merely a tool or a weapon; it is a fundamental force that has shaped the world as we know it."
She moved to a large, ancient map that hung on the wall, pointing to various regions with a slender, bony finger. "The first known practitioners of pain magic lived in what is now the northern region of Arcadin. They believed that pain was a gift from the gods, a divine force that could be harnessed to protect their people from invaders and natural disasters."
As she spoke, Jorel found himself drawn into the history, the tales of ancient warriors who had used pain to wield unimaginable power. But there was a darker side to these stories—a history of destruction, betrayal, and the suffering that came with the misuse of such power.
"The rise of pain magic was not without its consequences," the instructor continued, her voice growing more somber. "Many who sought to control this power were consumed by it. Wars were fought, kingdoms fell, and entire civilizations were wiped out in the pursuit of pain magic. It is a force that demands respect and discipline, for those who underestimate it do so at their peril."
The class continued with more stories and lessons, each one adding to Jorel's understanding of the world he was now a part of. The history was rich, complex, and filled with lessons that were as relevant today as they were centuries ago.
But even as he absorbed the information, Jorel couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this history than what was being taught. There were gaps in the stories, moments where the instructor's voice grew tight with restraint, as if she was holding back some deeper truth. It was clear that pain magic was not just a tool—it was a force with a will of its own, a force that could shape destinies in ways that were both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
After the history class, they moved on to their Advanced Studies, where the students were divided based on their specific pain type. Jorel and the other physical pain users gathered in a separate room, a stark, clinical space filled with medical equipment and diagrams of the human body.
The instructor for this class was a tall, thin man with a sharp gaze and an air of precision. He wasted no time in getting to the point.
"You are here to learn how to master physical pain," he said, his voice clipped and efficient. "Pain is not just something to be endured—it is something to be understood, controlled, and utilized to its fullest potential."
He moved to a table where various tools were laid out—scalpels, needles, and other instruments designed to inflict pain. "Today, we will begin with the basics of pain manipulation. You will learn how to direct pain to different parts of your body, how to amplify or reduce it, and how to use it as a source of power."
Jorel watched as the instructor demonstrated the techniques, using his own body as an example. The ease with which he inflicted pain on himself was both unsettling and impressive, a reminder of the level of mastery required to truly harness this power.
As the students took turns practicing the techniques, Jorel focused on controlling the pain, directing it to specific areas of his body and using it to enhance his strength. It was a delicate balance, one that required both mental and physical discipline. The pain was intense, but he could feel the power that came with it—the way it sharpened his senses, heightened his awareness, and fueled his abilities.
The class was grueling, but by the end of it, Jorel felt a sense of accomplishment. He was beginning to understand the nuances of pain magic, the ways in which pain could be both a weapon and a source of strength.
After the final class of the day, Jorel and Ryen began the familiar trek back to Raven House, their bodies heavy with fatigue but their minds buzzing with everything they had learned. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors, Jorel caught sight of the girl with red hair ahead of them. She was walking alone, her steps steady but her posture rigid.
Something in Jorel urged him to approach her. He quickened his pace, closing the distance between them, and called out just before she turned a corner. "Hey!"
The girl stopped, turning slightly to glance over her shoulder. Her expression was guarded, those sharp eyes assessing him with a mix of wariness and curiosity.
"I've seen you around," Jorel said, realizing how awkward it sounded as soon as the words left his mouth. He quickly added, "I'm Jorel. I just… thought we should get to know each other. We're both in Raven House, after all."
She regarded him in silence for a moment, her eyes flicking to Ryen as he caught up with them. Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but firm. "Jain. My name's Jain."
Ryen, always the more talkative of the two, stepped forward with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Jain. We've been in some of the same classes, right? I noticed you during Combat Training."
Jain nodded slightly, her posture relaxing just a fraction. "Yes. I'm… just trying to get through the day like everyone else."
There was a pause, the conversation teetering on the edge of awkwardness. Jorel could sense that she wasn't used to small talk, and he quickly searched for something else to say.
"Look, we're all trying to survive here," he said, his tone more serious. "It might help if we stick together. It's a tough place, and having allies can make a difference."
Jain hesitated, her gaze shifting between them. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—doubt, perhaps, or maybe a hint of vulnerability. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by her usual guarded expression.
"Maybe," she said quietly, then added, "But I don't trust easily. There's a lot you don't know about this place, about what's really going on."
Ryen looked intrigued, but Jorel sensed that pushing too hard would only make her withdraw further. He nodded, deciding to keep the conversation light. "Well, if you ever want to talk, or just… not be alone, you know where to find us."
Jain didn't respond immediately. She seemed to be weighing his words, deciding whether to take a chance on them. Finally, she gave a small nod. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
With that, she turned and continued down the corridor, her figure soon swallowed by the shadows. Jorel watched her go, feeling a mix of curiosity and concern. There was something about her—something that made him feel that she was carrying a burden far heavier than what any of them had faced so far.
Ryen sighed, breaking the silence. "She's interesting, that's for sure. But she's also right. There's a lot we don't know about this place."
"Yeah," Jorel agreed, his thoughts still on Jain. "And I get the feeling that finding out won't be easy."
They continued their walk back to Raven House, the conversation lingering in the back of their minds. As they reached their dormitory, Ryen let out a yawn, clearly ready to collapse onto his bed.
"I'm beat," Ryen said, stretching his arms above his head. "See you in the morning?"
"Yeah," Jorel replied, though his mind was still buzzing with questions.
As Ryen headed inside, Jorel paused at the door, glancing down the dark corridor where Jain had disappeared. The school held many mysteries, and Jain was quickly becoming one of them.
Finally, Jorel turned and followed Ryen inside, his body aching with exhaustion but his mind more alert than ever. He knew that the path he had chosen was filled with danger and uncertainty, but he was determined to see it through.
As he drifted off his thoughts still lingering on Jain and the warning she had hinted at- there was much to learn, and much to prepare for. But for now, all he could do was continue to build up his strength day by day.