The chill of an early winter morning settled over the academy grounds, the soft crunch of frost-covered grass echoing underfoot as students made their way toward their classes. In the common room of the dormitory, Leon and his growing circle of friends gathered as they always did, preparing for another day of lessons.
But this morning carried a subtle shift—one that began with a quiet exchange of glances across the room.
Lyra sat at her usual spot near the far window, her dark ears twitching faintly as she read. She was, as always, alone. Her golden eyes moved steadily over the pages of her book, seemingly oblivious to the conversations buzzing around her.
"She always sits by herself," Talin remarked, leaning back in his chair.
"Maybe she likes it that way," Fiona replied, adjusting the stack of notes in front of her.
"Or maybe she doesn't know how to join in," Leon said quietly.
Mikel, who had been unusually quiet, glanced over at Lyra before quickly looking away. "She's probably just busy. You know how beastkin are."
Fiona raised an eyebrow. "And you would know?"
"Obviously," Mikel replied, his tone defensive. "I read things."
Rurik snorted softly but said nothing, his attention focused on an intricate rune he was carving into a piece of wood.
Later that day, the group made their way to the crafting hall for their next class. The spacious room was filled with rows of workbenches, each equipped with tools, materials, and glowing runestones for mana alignment.
Leon's seat was near the back, and as he settled in, he noticed Lyra sitting two rows ahead of him.
She was working on a small, intricate project—a carving of what looked like a wolf, its sleek form detailed with sharp precision. Her hands moved with practiced ease, her focus unshaken despite the noise of the room.
Leon couldn't help but admire her skill. His own hands, less steady and far less confident, struggled to align a simple rune on his assigned project.
"Stop staring," Mikel muttered, nudging him.
"I wasn't staring," Leon replied, though he felt his cheeks warm slightly.
"Sure you weren't," Mikel said, smirking.
Before Leon could respond, a loud crash interrupted the class.
Talin, true to form, had managed to tip over an entire tray of enchanted tools. The glowing instruments clattered noisily to the floor, rolling in every direction.
"Uh… whoops?" Talin said, looking sheepish.
The instructor, a gruff old mage named Master Tarlon, sighed deeply. "Talin, for the love of the runes, sit down and stop touching things you don't understand."
The room erupted in quiet laughter as Talin sheepishly began gathering the scattered tools.
Leon turned back to his project, but before he could refocus, he noticed Lyra glancing in their direction. She looked faintly amused, her golden eyes flicking to Leon briefly before returning to her work.
That evening, as the group gathered in the common room, the usual lively chatter was tinged with something new. Leon had mentioned Lyra's carving during their walk back to the dorms, and now it had become the topic of the night.
"She's really good," Leon said, his voice thoughtful.
"I saw it too," Fiona added. "The detail on that carving was incredible."
"Beastkin are naturally skilled at things like that," Mikel said quickly, though his tone lacked its usual bravado. "It's… part of their culture or something."
"You're acting weird," Rurik said bluntly, narrowing his eyes at Mikel.
"No, I'm not," Mikel replied, crossing his arms. "I'm just… observant."
"Sure," Fiona said, smirking. "That's why you haven't looked in her direction all week, right?"
Mikel flushed, his ears turning red. "Can we change the subject?"
Leon hid a smile, but before anyone could press the matter further, the door to the common room creaked open.
Lyra stepped inside, her presence commanding attention despite her quiet demeanor. She paused, glancing around the room as if uncertain whether to stay.
For a moment, nobody moved. Then, Leon stood.
"Hey," he said, his voice soft but steady. "Do you want to join us?"
Lyra's golden eyes met his, her expression unreadable. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded and made her way to the table.
The silence that followed Lyra's arrival was awkward, but Talin, ever the entertainer, quickly took it upon himself to lighten the mood.
"So, Lyra," he began, leaning forward with a grin, "on a scale of one to ten, how much do you regret sitting with us already?"
Lyra tilted her head slightly, her ears twitching. "That depends. Do you always ask questions like that?"
Talin laughed, holding up his hands. "Fair point. I'll behave."
For the next hour, the group talked about their lessons, the latest academy gossip, and Rurik's growing reputation as the go-to craftsman for minor enchanted items. Lyra listened quietly, occasionally offering a brief comment or question that seemed to catch everyone off guard with its insight.
When the conversation turned to Talin's earlier mishap in the crafting hall, Lyra's lips twitched into what might have been a smile.
"That was… impressive," she said, her tone even.
"See?" Talin said, grinning. "She gets it."
Fiona rolled her eyes. "You have a strange definition of impressive."
As the evening wore on, the group began to drift off one by one. Fiona and Rurik left first, followed by Talin, who declared that he needed to "rest his creative genius."
Leon remained at the table, quietly organizing his notes. Lyra, to his surprise, lingered as well, her attention focused on a small book she had brought with her.
"Your carving," Leon said after a moment. "It was really good."
Lyra looked up, her golden eyes meeting his. "Thank you," she said simply.
Leon hesitated, then asked, "Do you carve a lot?"
Lyra nodded. "It's something I learned when I was young. It helps me focus."
"I wish I could do something like that," Leon admitted, smiling faintly. "Most of my projects end up… broken."
Lyra tilted her head slightly, studying him. "It's not about talent," she said after a moment. "It's about patience."
Her words were simple, but they carried a weight that struck Leon deeply. He nodded, grateful for the honesty in her tone.
The sound of the common room door swinging open shattered the quiet. Mikel strolled in, his usual grin firmly in place.
"What are you two still doing up?" he asked, plopping down onto the nearest couch.
"Just talking," Leon replied.
Lyra stood, her movements as graceful as ever. "Goodnight," she said, her voice calm but warm as she turned to leave.
Mikel watched her go, his grin fading slightly as he settled back into his seat.
Leon smirked. "Still going to pretend you don't like her?"
Mikel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Shut up, Leon."
For the first time in a long while, Leon laughed—quietly, but genuinely.