Facing the expectant gazes of her friends, Sylph took a deep breath. Her hands trembled slightly as she clenched her fists, then she spoke, her voice edged with hesitation: "In my wooden box... I found plant seeds. So, I was thinking, why not call it... the Box of Ten Thousand Seeds?"
She bit her lip, immediately feeling the weight of her words. She glanced at her friends nervously, unsure of their reaction. "It doesn't sound too bad, does it?" Her voice lowered, almost a whisper. "I just... I couldn't think of anything grander."
Vasida, ever the supportive friend, beamed at Sylph. Her eyes sparkled as she enthusiastically replied, "Bad? How could it sound bad? The Box of Ten Thousand Seeds, it sounds epic! It's like something out of a legend!"
Sylph's tense expression softened as Lyra chimed in, nodding earnestly, "Yeah, it's really good! There's a kind of mystery to it, like it holds endless possibilities."
Lilith, the more thoughtful and analytical of the group, leaned forward and added, "Names carry power, you know. Maybe the name will guide the box's future. Who knows? One day, it could really hold tens of thousands of seeds, each more magical than the last."
The warmth of her friends' affirmations eased Sylph's nervousness, and she began to smile. The name that had once seemed so simple now felt alive with potential, and she repeated it in her mind with pride: The Box of Ten Thousand Seeds. Yes, it sounded right.
Content with the new name, Lilith stretched and stifled a yawn. "Well, I think we've done enough brainstorming for today. Time to hit the hay." She stood up, her voice relaxed as the exhaustion crept in. "You all should rest too."
"Goodnight, Senior Lilith!" the others called in unison, watching her leave.
As soon as Lilith disappeared down the hallway, the small gathering began to disperse. Lyra grabbed her belongings, including the breadfruit she had been carrying around. "I'm off too," she said, waving to the others as they parted ways to their own dormitories.
Lyra's dormitory was modest, to say the least, and as she approached the overgrown yard outside her door, she used one hand to tug at the weeds stubbornly pushing through the soil. She stamped them down, making a path to the door.
The door itself wasn't locked, there was no need for that here. It creaked open easily, revealing the familiar but humble interior. As she flicked the switch, the magic light illuminated the small, simple space. There was no grandeur here, no hidden depths disguised behind plain exteriors. What you saw was exactly what you got.
The ceiling beams and old tiles were exposed above her, and the rough, uneven floor stretched out beneath her feet, though it was smoother than the crumbling walls. The whole room could be taken in at a glance, small and unpretentious.
To the left of the door was an open kitchenette, with a few basic kitchen utensils hanging on the wall and a single high stool by a small counter that served as both dining and prep area. Lyra liked to cook simple meals there when she had time, and it was cozy enough.
On the right, a small table and chairs sat by the window, sunlight streaming through during the day. Rows of wooden shelves lined the wall beside it, filled with worn books and scrolls, some handed down from former students. On the table, a stack of parchment, a quill pen, and an ink bottle were waiting for her to jot down her next great idea.
In the back of the room, there was a modest fireplace, perfect for cold evenings, and next to it, a narrow staircase led to the second floor, an open loft with just enough room for a single bed and a tiny wardrobe. There were no walls or privacy up there, but Lyra didn't mind, it was simple, but it was hers.
Under the stairs, someone had built two small rooms, separated by wooden planks. One was completely empty, a quiet space for who knows what, while the other contained a washbasin stand with three wooden basins and a few toiletries scattered around. Wooden barrels for water were stacked in the corner, and towels hung neatly from pegs on the wall.
It wasn't grand by any means, but as Lyra stood in the center of the room, she smiled. It was functional, cozy, and the kind of space that made her feel at home. She dropped the breadfruit on the kitchen counter and plopped down into the nearest chair, content with the quiet, steady rhythm of her life at the witch school.
It looked like a bathroom, though something was off. No mirror hung on the walls, and there was no door to offer privacy. The room was bare, simple; functional, but nothing more. Every piece of furniture in the dormitory was crafted from wood, sturdy and plain, without a hint of ornamentation. The only exceptions were the cold metal stove and the knives in the kitchen, along with the plumbing fixtures, the toilet, the water pipes, and faucets in the bathroom. Even these were of the simplest design, as if crafted solely for utility, with no thought given to appearance.
There wasn't even an extra chair to sit on in the whole room. Yet, despite its sparse design, the dormitory had everything Lyra needed. It was small, but it was practical, and frankly, better than what she had expected. After all, the college didn't provide meals, so the fact that she had tables, chairs, a bed, and cabinets ready to go was already a luxury by comparison. At least she didn't have to worry about buying basic furniture or hunting down daily necessities right away.
Lyra placed the breadfruit she'd been carrying into the kitchen and went upstairs to check the wardrobe. Inside, she found two sets of uniforms for each season; spring, summer, autumn, and winter, as well as two pairs of shoes, socks, and undergarments. She was relieved. "Well, that's one less thing to worry about," she muttered to herself, pulling out a comfortable nightgown. She was ready for a much-needed shower.
Though she had bathed before leaving home, the trek from the college castle and her time in the breadfruit forest had left her covered in sweat, dust, and who knows what else. Desperate to wash the grime off, she grabbed her clothes and made her way to the bathroom.
But as she entered the small, doorless space, she realized something was missing, there wasn't even a proper shower. Instead, a basin sat waiting. Sighing, she resigned herself to a basin bath. "It'll have to do," she whispered, turning the faucet handle.
Nothing. Not a single drop of water.
Lyra stared at the faucet, her mind scrambling for answers. No water? She thought of the water tower she had seen in the backyard earlier, a relic of the dormitory's old-fashioned setup. Could the water tower be empty?
Determined to figure it out, she grabbed a lantern and ventured outside into the night. The backyard was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of wind through the trees. She found the ladder leading up to the water tower and, with a grunt, climbed to the top. When she removed the lid and peered inside, the moonlight revealed the dry, parched walls of the tank.
"Of course," Lyra sighed in frustration. She climbed back down, muttering to herself, "Looks like I'm fetching water."
She grabbed a bucket from the kitchen and headed back out, her footsteps echoing on the path. As she approached the yard, she spotted two familiar figures, also carrying buckets; Sylph and Vasida. They shared a knowing look.
"Going to get water?" Sylph asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yep, no water in the tower," Lyra replied, shaking her head with a tired smile.
"Same here," Vasida chimed in. "No one mentioned we'd have to haul our own water. Guess there's a first time for everything!"
The three of them shared a weary laugh, their steps slowing as they fell into a companionable silence. Lyra's thoughts drifted back to earlier in the day. "I remember passing a well at the intersection up ahead," she said, breaking the quiet. "There were water tracks on the road when we came back; bet the other witches already went to fetch theirs."
Sylph nodded. "That's Gudan Well, right? Lilith mentioned it yesterday."
"That's the one," Lyra confirmed. "There's a stone tablet next to it that says 'Gudan Well,' carved into the stone. It's an old name, kind of reminds me of an ancient well back on Blue Star. Supposedly, the water never runs dry, stays clear and pure all year round."
Vasida sighed, shaking her head. "I never thought we'd have to fetch water ourselves. That water tower is massive, yet not a drop of water inside! What's the point of having it?"
The three girls exchanged looks of exasperation and then shrugged, laughing softly again. They trudged down the dark path, their lanterns casting long shadows, but the night felt less burdensome with each other's company.
"Guess this is all part of the witch school experience," Lyra joked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Sylph smirked. "Well, let's just hope that well lives up to its legend!"
Who would have thought that on the very first day of school, before the sun had even fully risen, we'd be trudging out to fetch water just to take a bath?
"It seems we're going to have to master the art of summoning springs pretty quickly," Sylph grumbled, the bucket swinging at her side. "Otherwise, we'll be stuck hauling water from that enormous tower every morning. Ugh, what a hassle."
Lyra, always one to keep track, started counting on her fingers. "So far, we've got light magic, spring magic, and cooking magic on the list of things to learn. We've just started school, and already I feel like I'm drowning in spells!"
"And don't forget the cleaning magic!" Vasida chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "The dorm might be small, but those earthen walls and floors get dusty so fast. Without a cleaning spell, we'll spend more time sweeping than studying."
"Four magics," Lyra added, lifting another finger.
"And levitation!" Sylph interjected, glancing up at the academy perched high on the mountaintop. Just the thought of hiking up there every day made her legs ache. "I can't even imagine lugging heavy supplies back and forth all year. Not to mention how useful it would be for picking breadfruit!"
Lyra nodded, holding up a fifth finger. "Five magics to learn, all before we can even think about combat spells. I guess the academy really knows how to push us. They've put all these challenges in front of us, but they've also dangled the solutions. The quality of our lives here will depend entirely on how well we master these basic magics."
It was becoming clear to Lyra. There was no room for laziness here. Even the least motivated student would be driven to learn, not because of ambition, but out of pure necessity. If you didn't learn, you suffered. "I bet once classes start, the most popular spells won't be for combat or grand illusions; it'll be the everyday magic. The little things that make life easier."
Sylph chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised if that's why Shana's mother was so skilled at the Clear Spring technique. Not exactly her forte, but after years of filling water towers, I bet she mastered it in no time."
"Exactly," Lyra agreed. "Even if you're not naturally gifted, you can always make up for it by working harder. And every witch here has enough talent to at least reach the apprentice level. No one's going to be helpless."
As they continued their trek to the well, their conversation drifted between complaints and laughter, each of them griping about the academy's harsh approach. Yet, even with all their grumbling, they didn't slow down. They knew what needed to be done.
The clan might provide financial support to young witches, but that didn't mean any special privileges. From this day forward, they were on their own, away from the safety of their families, and beginning the long journey of becoming qualified witches.
It was late by the time they finally reached the well. The water was icy cold, the chill biting at their hands as they filled their buckets. "I'll have to heat this up as soon as we get back," Lyra said, shivering as she hefted the heavy bucket.
"Thank goodness for the magic stove," Vasida said, with a hint of relief in her voice. "At least we won't have to chop wood."
Once they returned to the dorm, the stove was lit in no time, its flames flickering with a soft, magical glow. Lyra heated the well water quickly and finally took the bath she had been looking forward to all night. The warmth soaked through her weary bones, and she felt a wave of relaxation wash over her.
Clean and warm, Lyra climbed into bed, exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket. She had intended to study her card book, a project she had been excited about, but the moment her head hit the pillow, her eyes fluttered shut.
Even though the bed was unfamiliar, the room strange, she felt no discomfort. The day had been long, but the future felt full of potential. And as sleep claimed her, she couldn't help but feel a little excited about what tomorrow might bring.