The Advanced Magical Theory classroom buzzed with tension. Professor Helena Vale stood at the front, her emerald eyes scanning the room with barely concealed worry. She lingered a moment too long on her nephew, remembering the bright, gentle boy he used to be. The one who would stay after class to help struggling students, who treated magic as something wondrous rather than a tool for manipulation.
When Aldrich met her gaze with bland disinterest, she saw something that made her blood run cold - not emptiness, but layers upon layers of calculation, as if he was solving an equation where people were merely variables to be manipulated.
"Today we'll be forming permanent research pairs," Helena announced, her voice steadier than she felt. "Given the dangerous nature of advanced magic, partners will be assigned based on complementary magical signatures."
A collective intake of breath. Everyone knew what this meant—a whole semester working closely with their partner. Already, hopeful glances were being cast in Aldrich's direction.
"First pair," Helena consulted her crystal tablet, "Aldrich Vale and..." She frowned. "Aria Blackwood."
A chair scraped at the back of the room. A girl with stark white hair and ice-blue eyes stood up, her uniform bearing the silver emblem of the Blackwood Duchy—the Vale family's greatest rivals. Her beauty was as cold and sharp as a midwinter night.
"I refuse," Aria stated flatly. "I won't work with a Vale."
Aldrich's lip quirked. "Finally, someone with sense."
"You don't have a choice," Helena snapped. "Your ice affinity perfectly complements Aldrich's fire—"
"Actually," Aldrich interrupted, raising his hand with exaggerated politeness, "I'll be working with Marcus Thorne."
The scholarship student nearly dropped his books. "But I don't have any special magical affinity—"
Aldrich's smile sharpened. "Exactly. You're different from the walking disappointments filling this room. And I find that, if nothing else, amusing."
The boy seemed both intrigued and intimidated. Perfect. Aldrich took a cruel satisfaction in the way Marcus wrestled with this unexpected spotlight, savoring the boy's discomfort as though it were a fine vintage.
The insult hung in the air. Several students bristled, including Aria, whose temperature dropped so low frost began forming on her desk.
From two rows over, Lucas Sterling—the academy's proclaimed 'second prince' with his bronze curls and lazy smile—let out a low whistle. "Always the contrarian, eh Vale? Though I can't blame you for turning down the Ice Queen. She'd probably freeze off anything important."
"Better than being a third-rate playboy whose only talent is collecting vapid admirers," Aria shot back.
A new voice cut through the growing tension. "Now, now, let's all play nice."
Sophia Ravenscroft rose from her seat, her presence immediately commanding attention. As the Student Council Vice President (under Rosalind) and heir to the Church of the Seven Stars, she radiated serene authority. Her violet eyes held an almost hypnotic quality as she smiled at the class.
"Clearly, the goddess has brought us together for a purpose. Even those who seem... resistant to forming bonds." Her meaningful glance at Aldrich made several students sigh dreamily.
Aldrich barely suppressed an eye roll. Religious manipulation. How original.
"Partner assignments are final," Helena declared, clearly trying to regain control. "Aldrich, you will work with—"
"Marcus," Aldrich stated with quiet finality. "Unless you'd like me to explain exactly why forcing magically complementary students to pair up is more likely to result in resonance disasters than breakthroughs? I have some fascinating theoretical models on the subject."
The room went silent. Helena's face tightened—she knew he was right, and worse, could prove it.
"Fine," she bit out. "Aria, you'll partner with Lucas instead."
"Wonderful," Lucas drawled. "Ice and Lightning. We'll either make history or blow up the lab."
As the rest of the pairs were assigned, Aldrich felt Sophia's gaze on him. The church heir had been trying to 'save his soul' ever since his personality change. Her latest theory was that he was possessed by a demon—amusingly close to the truth, if you counted his transmigrated consciousness.
Marcus leaned over. "They all hate you now."
"No," Aldrich corrected, watching Aria's frigid glare, Lucas's calculating smirk, and Sophia's concerned frown. "They're all interested in me. Which is far more useful than hate." His eyes glinted. "And far more dangerous than love."
"You did that on purpose," Marcus realized. "Rejected the ice princess, insulted the nobles, undermined the professor... you're making them all react to you."
Aldrich's smile could have cut glass. "Very good. You're learning." He glanced at his new research partner. "Now, shall we give them a real show? I have some theories about combining ordinary and noble magic that will make their precious bloodlines obsolete."
The bell rang, and everyone started leaving
"A word, nephew?" Helena called as students filed out.
Aldrich paused, that perfect mask of politeness sliding into place. "Of course, dear aunt. Though I must warn you - if this is another attempt to 'understand what happened,' I'm afraid you'll find it as futile as the last dozen."
Helena's hands tightened on her desk. "Do you know what I see when I look at you now? Not just a changed personality, but a fundamental shift in how you approach magic itself. Your previous theories were brilliant but gentle - finding ways to enhance existing frameworks. Now?" She gestured to his notes. "Now you tear things apart just to watch them break."
"How observant," Aldrich's smile held genuine amusement. "Though you're missing the most interesting part - I'm not tearing things apart randomly. I'm exposing the fault lines that were always there." His golden eyes glittered. "Tell me, aunt, how long have you known about the flaws in noble magical theory? How many times have you adjusted your teaching to maintain the comfortable lies?"
Helena went pale. "You can't possibly-"
"Know about your private research? The papers you never published because they came too close to proving what I demonstrated today?" Aldrich's voice was almost gentle. "I found them, you know. Hidden away in the restricted section. Quite brilliant work - showing how common magic could theoretically match noble abilities with the right application. You were so close to the truth, but you stopped. Why?"
"Because I understood the consequences!" Helena's composure cracked. "What you're doing won't just change the system - it will shatter it. People will die, Aldrich."
"People are already dying," he replied softly. "They just do it quietly, crushed under the weight of artificial limitations. At least my way will be more..." his lips curved, "entertaining."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and aunt? You might want to destroy those research notes soon. Father's getting quite interested in who else might have suspected these inconvenient truths."
Helena watched him go, remembering the nephew who used to bring her flowers and ask endless questions about magic's beauty. Now those same questions had fangs, and his gift for seeing patterns had become something dangerous.
She looked down at her class roster - at all the bright young faces who would be caught in whatever game Aldrich was playing. And for the first time in her career, Professor Helena Vale wondered if she should have burned her research years ago, when she first realized where it might lead.
As Aldrich left his aunt, Rosalind and Evelyn approached, each wearing an expression somewhere between worry and adoration.
"God is this place a circus, or else why do I keep on meeting so many of these clowns?"
"Aldrich, don't you remember when we used to go riding by the river?" Rosalind asked not hearing the previous comment, trying to inject warmth into his otherwise frigid demeanor.
Aldrich quirked an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a smirk. "Ah, yes. Fond memories of wasting my time."
Evelyn's expression faltered. "You used to care, Aldrich. You were kind." Her voice was almost pleading.
Aldrich stared at her for a moment, his gaze unreadable before he shrugged dismissively. "If I ever did, then I've since learned better." He brushed past them without a backward glance, leaving them standing in the hall, clinging to memories of a person who, to him, might as well have never existed.