The morning sun filtered through the dormitory window, casting long streaks of light across Leon's bed. He groaned, turning over and pulling the blanket over his head.
"Leon! Wake up!" Mikel's voice rang out, followed by the sound of a loud thud.
Leon peeked out from under the blanket just in time to see Mikel balancing precariously on one foot, holding a boot in one hand and grinning like he'd just discovered the best joke in the world.
"Guess what?" Mikel said, his tone way too cheerful for so early in the morning. "You're late!"
Leon bolted upright. "What?!"
"Just kidding," Mikel said, tossing the boot casually onto the floor. "We've got at least ten minutes. Plenty of time to sprint like your life depends on it."
Leon groaned, flopping back down onto his pillow. "Mikel, you're the worst."
Mikel leaned against the bedpost, smirking. "No, no. I'm the best at making sure you don't get expelled on day one. You can thank me later."
The dormitory hall buzzed with energy as students hurried to their first classes, but Leon's only concern was breakfast. His stomach growled loudly as they made their way toward the dining hall.
"Relax, Leon," Mikel said, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulder. "The food here's probably so good it'll make you cry."
As they entered the hall, Leon stopped in his tracks. Tables stretched as far as the eye could see, piled high with breads, fruits, and steaming platters of food.
Mikel grabbed a plate with exaggerated reverence. "Behold," he said, holding it up like a holy artifact. "The plate of endless potential. Now, watch a master at work."
Leon watched in silence as Mikel began stacking his plate with anything and everything he could reach, creating a precarious mountain of food.
"Mikel," Leon said cautiously, "you're going to drop that."
"Nonsense," Mikel replied, wobbling slightly as he turned. "This is precision engineering. It's—"
Before he could finish, a lone bread roll tumbled from the top of the pile, landing with a soft plop on the floor. Mikel froze, then slowly bent down to pick it up, keeping the rest of the plate perfectly balanced.
"See?" he said, grinning. "Flawless execution."
Leon sighed, grabbing his own plate.
The first class of the day was held in a grand lecture hall with rows of seats that sloped gently toward the front. A glowing rune circle was etched into the floor near the podium, its light casting faint patterns onto the ceiling.
Leon and Mikel slid into seats near the middle, with a hesitant Rurik joining them. The dwarf boy kept glancing around nervously, clutching a small notebook to his chest.
Professor Althea entered moments later, her silver braid catching the light as she strode to the podium. The room fell silent instantly.
"Good," she said, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students. "At least some of you know how to sit still. Let's see if you can manage it for the next hour."
Mikel leaned toward Leon and whispered, "She looks like she hasn't smiled in a century."
Leon nudged him. "Be quiet."
But Mikel wasn't done. "What do you think she does for fun? Reads rulebooks for sport?"
Before Leon could respond, Professor Althea's sharp voice cut through the room. "Mr. Draymir's grandson, I presume?"
Mikel blinked, caught off guard. "Uh… yes, ma'am."
Althea's lips twitched into something that could almost be called a smile—if smiles were made of ice. "Let's hope you live up to your family's reputation. Or at the very least, don't waste my time."
The room erupted in quiet snickers as Mikel sank lower in his seat, muttering, "What's her problem? I didn't even do anything yet."
Professor Althea waved her hand, and the rune circle at the podium flared to life. A glowing sphere of light appeared, floating serenely above the ground.
"Today's lesson is on mana efficiency," she announced. "Your task is simple: create a sphere of mana and maintain it for five minutes without allowing it to flicker or dim. Begin."
The room filled with the sound of students muttering incantations as they tried to summon their own spheres.
Mikel conjured his with ease, the sphere glowing brightly in his palm. "Piece of cake," he said, spinning it in slow circles.
Leon focused on his own hands, muttering softly as he tried to channel his mana. A small, flickering sphere appeared, wobbling unsteadily before sputtering out.
"Almost there, Leon," Mikel said encouragingly. "Just, you know, less wobbly next time."
Leon sighed, wiping sweat from his brow.
As Leon focused on his next attempt, Mikel decided to get creative. He made his sphere pulse with color, shifting from blue to green to a shimmering gold.
"Hey, Leon," he whispered, leaning over. "Do you think Professor Althea would notice if I made mine look like her head?"
Leon froze, his own sphere fizzling out completely. "Don't even think about it."
Mikel grinned. "What if I gave it glasses?"
"Mr. Draymir," Professor Althea's voice rang out, icy and sharp.
Mikel straightened instantly, his grin vanishing. "Yes, Professor?"
"Stop amusing yourself and focus on the task. Or would you prefer to run laps around the training grounds instead?"
"Laps sound... delightful, but I'll pass," Mikel said with a sheepish smile.
Althea raised an eyebrow but said nothing, turning her attention to another student.
Leon bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Mikel muttered, "Tough crowd."
By the end of the lesson, Leon had managed to maintain his sphere for a full twenty seconds before it fizzled out. It wasn't much, but it was progress.
As they left the lecture hall, Rurik hesitated, then turned to Leon. "You did better than I thought you would."
Leon blinked. "Really?"
The dwarf nodded. "Most people don't last that long their first try. You're persistent."
Leon's chest warmed slightly. "Thanks."
Mikel clapped them both on the back. "See? We're all geniuses in the making. Except for me—I'm already there."
Leon rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips.