Chereads / Rebirth of a Betrayed Soul / Chapter 8 - Chapter 8:

Chapter 8 - Chapter 8:

The next morning, the Academy grounds buzzed with activity as students rushed to their first lessons of the day. The golden morning light filtered through the windows of the dormitory as I sat at my desk, carefully reviewing the schedule the Headmistress had given me. Lyric, already dressed and leaning against the door frame, tossed a casual smile my way.

"You're really going to show up early?" she teased, stifling a yawn. "Most of us just roll in halfway through the lecture."

I gave her a withering look, folding the parchment neatly. "Some of us value punctuality."

She chuckled, grabbing her satchel. "Suit yourself. Just don't get too caught up in all the rules. This place is more about surviving the people than the classes."

Her words hung in the air as I made my way to the first lecture hall. The Academy's inner buildings were labyrinthine, with towering archways and dim corridors that made it easy to lose your bearings. Even with the map I'd memorized the night before, I couldn't help but feel like the walls were closing in.

When I finally arrived, the lecture hall was already half full, students scattered across the rows of wooden benches. I slipped into a seat near the back, my eyes scanning the room. A few familiar faces stood out—Corwin, his smirk as insufferable as ever, surrounded by a cluster of admirers. Lyric was nowhere to be seen, likely making good on her promise to show up late.

The lecture itself was dull—an introductory lesson on the Academy's history and the alliances between noble families. The instructor, an aging professor with a droning voice, seemed more interested in impressing the wealthier students than actually teaching.

But it wasn't the content of the lecture that caught my attention. It was the interactions—the way certain students exchanged knowing glances, whispered behind cupped hands, or shot furtive looks toward others. There was a hierarchy here, one I couldn't yet decipher, but it was clear that power dynamics extended far beyond the classroom.

By the time the lesson ended, I'd gleaned more from observing the students than from anything the professor had said. I made a mental note to avoid Corwin and his entourage, as well as a sharp-eyed girl seated near the front who seemed to command a quiet authority among her peers.

As I stepped out of the lecture hall, Lyric appeared at my side, her grin wide. "How was your first class? Riveting, I bet."

"Enlightening," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

She laughed, slinging an arm over my shoulder in a gesture that was far too familiar for my liking. "Come on. Let's get something to eat before the next one. Trust me, the kitchen staff are the real heroes of this place."

The dining hall was bustling as always, but Lyric managed to snag a spot at a table near the edge of the room. I picked at my food, my attention wandering to the groups of students scattered around us. Lyric was right—surviving the people here would be just as important as excelling in my studies.

"So," Lyric said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you've got the lay of the land yet? Any enemies, allies, secret plots?"

I arched an eyebrow at her, but her grin only widened. "Just asking," she said, popping a piece of bread into her mouth. "You've got that look, you know. Like you're plotting something big."

"I'm always plotting," I said, my voice dry.

Her laughter echoed across the table, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students. "Well, let me know if you need a co-conspirator. I'm excellent at causing trouble."

As we left the dining hall, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease. Lyric's lighthearted demeanor was refreshing, but it was also dangerous. If she wasn't careful, she'd draw attention I couldn't afford.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures and introductions. By the time evening fell, I was exhausted, my mind buzzing with everything I'd learned. As I returned to the dormitory, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. The shadows seemed to stretch farther than they should, and the faint echo of footsteps followed me down the empty corridors.

When I reached my room, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, my heart pounding. Paranoia, I told myself. Nothing more.

But as I glanced out the window, I saw a figure standing in the courtyard below, their face obscured by the gathering darkness. They didn't move, didn't make a sound. They just stood there, watching.