Niklaus awoke to the gentle rays of morning sunlight filtering through the arched windows of the spellcraft hall, only to realise he was still in his clothes from the night before. His blankets were tangled around him like a vine, and his tunic and trousers were speckled with bits of moss and twigs, remnants from his nocturnal wander through Verdant Hollow. A particularly stubborn leaf clung to his hair, refusing to let go of its newfound host.
Groaning, he sat up, brushing off the forest debris with exaggerated annoyance. His muscles ached from the night's escapades, and there was a faint scratch on his forearm, a memento from an overzealous branch. As he untangled himself from the covers, the door creaked open, and in strolled Kai, followed closely by Throrin and Amir.
Kai's eyes widened the moment he saw Niklaus. "Rough night, Wolf-heart? Or did the forest finally decide to adopt you?"
Throrin let out a hearty laugh, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Looks like you lost a brawl with a particularly vicious bush."
Amir, ever composed, raised an eyebrow. "You went out last night, didn't you? Into the forest."
Niklaus grinned sheepishly, pulling a twig from his sleeve. "Just stretching my legs. The walls were feeling a bit… confining."
"And the moss on your face?" Kai teased, plopping onto the bed beside him. "Is that a new skincare routine? Because, honestly, it's not working."
Niklaus flicked the offending moss at Kai, who yelped and batted it away dramatically. "I was communing with nature," Niklaus declared with mock seriousness. "You wouldn't understand."
"Oh, I understand," Throrin chuckled. "You're turning into one of those wild forest spirits."
Amir shook his head, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You should be careful, Niklaus. The forest is not without its dangers."
Niklaus's grin softened. "I know, Amir. But sometimes, it's the only place that feels real."
The room fell into a brief, contemplative silence before Kai clapped his hands together. "Enough of your woodland adventures. What do you think today's class will be like? Is it. going to be magic theory? I heard it is usually just theory at first"
"Knowing our luck," Throrin said, "it'll be lectures on how not to blow ourselves up."
"Either way," Niklaus said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up, "I'm ready. As long as Victor doesn't lecture us on the 'proper' way to harness mana."
"Oh, you mean like this?" Throrin straightened his posture, puffed out his chest, and adopted an exaggeratedly pompous tone. ''Ah yes, the key to true magical prowess lies in aligning your quill with the magnetic ley lines of the universe.''
The room erupted in laughter, and Niklaus felt the last remnants of his nocturnal restlessness fade. But as the laughter died down, he caught sight of his reflection in a polished bronze mirror—still covered in moss, twigs poking out of his tousled hair like wild antennae. Groaning dramatically, he snatched a cloth and a basin of water from his bedside.
Just as he began scrubbing at his face with the fervor of a man trying to erase evidence of a forest brawl, Kai called over his shoulder, "You better hurry up, Wolf-heart, or you'll be late again!"
Throrin chuckled, tossing a boot toward the door. "Don't want to miss our newest Professor's delightful lectures on not blowing ourselves up."
Amir gave a small, knowing smile. "Try not to forget anything this time."
Niklaus grumbled as he wiped at his arms, muttering curses at the stubborn leaves clinging to him like old friends refusing to say goodbye. The door clicked shut behind his friends, leaving him to his rushed routine, a battle against time and his own disorganized thoughts.
His fingers fumbled with his tunic buttons, missing loops as his mind darted from one thought to another. He yanked the fabric straight, only to wrinkle it again as he adjusted it for the fifth time. Kicking off his moss-splotched trousers, he slipped into cleaner ones, though his legs twitched with impatience. His boots were a rushed affair, one slightly looser than the other, but there was no time for perfection. He tried to smooth his hair, only to give up halfway, leaving a rebellious tuft sticking out.
He dashed out the door, only to skid to a halt halfway to class. His heart dropped. He'd forgotten his satchel. Again. His satchel and class materials had been packed the day before—a rare moment of foresight, knowing his mornings were usually a chaotic mess but he had still managed to forget it even with it on his bed.
"By the gods," he groaned, spinning on his heel and sprinting back to his room. Bursting through the door, he grabbed the forgotten bag from where it sat smugly on his bed and bolted back out, his footsteps echoing through the stone hallways as he raced against time—and his own forgetfulness—to make it to class without being too embarrassingly late.
The classroom was already buzzing when he arrived. But the moment Professor Ignatius entered, the room fell into an eerie silence. Ignatius was a tall, wiry man with wild, unkempt hair that seemed perpetually singed at the tips. His eyes gleamed with a manic light, and his robes bore scorch marks in places that suggested a history of... enthusiastic experimentation. He twirled a charred stick that he had just pulled out of the Hearth in the Classroom between his fingers as if it were a cherished heirloom.
"Welcome, my little sparks!" Ignatius bellowed, his voice cracking like a bonfire. "Today, we dance with danger, flirt with flames, and perhaps—if you're lucky—escape with your eyebrows intact!"
Niklaus exchanged wide-eyed glances with Kai, who was practically vibrating with excitement. "This is going to be brilliant," Kai whispered, barely able to contain his glee.
Ignatius paced the front of the room, his gestures grand and erratic. "Fire, my dear students, is not merely an element. It is passion, chaos, life, and death wrapped in a seductive, flickering package. To wield it is to court destruction—but oh, the beauty in its dance!"
Niklaus couldn't help but grin. The man was clearly a pyromaniac, but there was no denying the captivating energy he brought to the room. As Ignatius launched into a detailed explanation of combustion, his hands wove through the air, leaving trails of harmless sparks that fizzled out just before touching the ceiling.
"Now," Ignatius announced, his eyes gleaming with fervor, "who will be the first to coax the flame from the ether?"
Before anyone else could react, Kai shot his hand up and practically leapt out of his seat. "Me!"
Ignatius clapped his hands together, sending a puff of smoke into the air. "Ah, enthusiasm! I like that. Step forward, my fiery prodigy."
Kai approached the demonstration table, his grin wide and confident. He extended his hand, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, drawing mana into his chest. Niklaus watched as the air—the mana—around Kai seemed to shimmer, the very particles vibrating with energy. With a sharp exhale, a bright, controlled flame burst to life above Kai's palm, steady and vibrant.
The class erupted in applause, and Ignatius practically danced with glee. "Marvelous! A natural conduit for flame! You, young man, will set the world alight—hopefully not literally."
Kai returned to his seat, his face glowing with pride. "That was amazing!"
"Show-off," Niklaus teased, elbowing him gently. But his heart swelled with genuine admiration for his friend's talent.
As the lesson progressed, Ignatius delved into the scientific principles behind fire magic—discussing the precise balance of heat, fuel, and mana. He emphasized the importance of control, warning of the devastating consequences of reckless casting.
Niklaus took his turn, feeling the familiar swirl of mana in his chest. He focused, remembering Ignatius's instructions, and carefully channeled his energy. A tiny flame flickered to life, hovering above his index finger. It wasn't as impressive as Kai's, but it was steady and warm.
"Not bad, Wolf-heart," Kai whispered, nudging him. "Not bad at all."
Professor Ignatius beamed at the class, his eyes twinkling with a manic delight that bordered on unsettling. "Remember, my dear students, magic is as much a delicate science as it is art. Respect it, study it, and perhaps—just perhaps—you'll survive my class."
He paused, letting the words hang in the air like the lingering scent of smoke. "You see, magic isn't some whimsical force you can wave around like a child's toy. It's chemistry, it's physics, it's understanding the very building blocks of our world and bending them—carefully—to your will. The wrong balance of mana and fuel, and you'll find yourself missing more than just your eyebrows."
Ignatius paced the room with purpose, scribbling complex formulas onto the slate board behind him. "Consider the writings of Archmage Velion in The Combustion Conundrum. He theorized that the precise ratio of mana-to-oxygen is critical. Too much mana, and the reaction destabilizes. Too little, and you'll produce nothing but a puff of smoke—and embarrassment."
Niklaus's eyes darted between the rapidly appearing formulas and his notebook. His quill scratched furiously across the page, though his knee bounced under the desk as he fought the urge to blurt out a joke about exploding classmates. But the seriousness of the material demanded his focus, and as Ignatius delved into mana conduction coefficients and elemental resonance frequencies, Niklaus found himself genuinely captivated.
"Fire," Ignatius continued, "is a living thing. It consumes, it breathes, and it responds to the emotional state of its caster. You must understand its needs, anticipate its behavior. Harnessing fire magic is like taming a wild beast. Misstep, and it will turn on you."
Kai leaned over, whispering, "I swear, he's in love with fire."
Cindershard, resting by Niklaus's side, murmured quietly, "I'd be more worried if he started writing it love letters."
Niklaus stifled a laugh, earning a sharp glare from Ignatius. Clearing his throat, the professor fixed his gaze on the class once more. "Now, let's discuss the heat transfer equations outlined in Pyros Sage's Flame Dynamics. Understanding how heat propagates through different mediums will be crucial for controlling your spells. For instance, why do you think a fire spell reacts differently when cast in a dry field compared to a damp forest?"
Hands shot up, and the class engaged in a lively discussion about environmental factors, mana flux, and the importance of spell modulation. Niklaus contributed, his earlier fidgeting forgotten as he lost himself in the intricate dance of theory and practice.
By the end of the lecture, his notebook was filled with diagrams, notes, and margin doodles of tiny, grumpy flames. Ignatius clapped his hands, sending another puff of smoke into the air. "Remember, my dear pyromancers, magic is science wearing a cloak of wonder. Study it well, and you'll not only survive—you'll thrive."
As they filed out of the classroom, Niklaus felt a sense of accomplishment and excitement. Now it was time for the next Magic class. What's the next class again he ran after his friends hoping he was going the right way and they had the same classes again.