She left the garden behind, entering the silent corridors where oil torches crackled with a flickering light. The hallway curved, and as she rounded a corner, she glimpsed an ancient stained glass window that let through a ray of colored sunlight, painting the floor with irregular shapes. She paused for a second to contemplate them, trying to recompose her calm.
"At last, I've found you."
The echo of that voice broke through the hallway's silence. Lucy turned and recognized the figure of Elena approaching with quick, graceful steps. The slender silhouette of the vice president stopped next to Lucy, whose pupils still traveled through the chromatic hues on the floor. The newcomer frowned, concerned by Lucy's expression.
"I didn't see you after the presentation. I told you to wait for me outside. But I knew you wouldn't go far."
Lucy swallowed hard before responding. She needed to organize her thoughts, which still seemed to be wandering in the bench beneath the cherry blossoms. She tried not to avert her gaze as she recalled the awkward moment with the dark-skinned young man.
"Sorry... I just needed some air."
Her voice faltered at the end, enough for Elena to tilt her head with concern. Lucy's eyes focused on the veteran's light uniform, so different from the darker clothing worn by everyone else.
"You never told me you were the vice president of the council. It caught me completely off guard."
"I get enough attention just because my uniform is a different color. Besides, you'd probably act even shyer if you knew."
"Maybe," Lucy admitted, recalling the fleeting images of the president and Deputy Headmistress Morgana. "The two people with you were... peculiar."
"You have no idea. The worst of the two is the president. And I have to put up with him every day."
"I'm surprised someone like him is president. He doesn't seem very responsible."
"He isn't..." Elena pressed her palm to her forehead. A sigh escaped her lips. "This academy isn't like others. Here, the president isn't chosen for being the most studious or exemplary. You'll understand eventually. Anyway, don't waste your time on Steven. If there's someone you should be wary of, it's Deputy Headmistress Morgana."
"I still can't believe that woman is a teacher."
"You're not the only one. Luckily, she only teaches combat classes, so if you haven't enrolled, you won't have to deal with her much. Just make sure to avoid her classes. She's made several students faint. Her methods are brutal."
Lucy's face paled for a moment. Any lingering thoughts of signing up for combat classes vanished like dust in the wind.
The two girls continued walking through the vast corridor, though Elena's gaze lingered behind, toward the garden. She turned to Lucy with a mischievous smile on her face.
"Changing the subject... Are you not going to tell me anything about the boy who approached you in the garden?"
"What?!" Lucy exclaimed, though not loudly. "You saw that?"
Lucy felt her cheeks flush again. She tried to describe him casually, as if he were just another one of the many students wandering the academy. Elena raised her eyebrows, a slight smile forming. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.
"If you'd like, I can tell you who the dark-skinned boy is..."
"You know him?"
Lucy answered immediately, but as soon as she did, she forced herself to lower her gaze, hearing Elena's soft laugh beside her.
"His name is Alan Weaver, and before you ask, he's a year older than you."
"A year older?" Lucy blinked. "Isn't he also a new student?"
Elena nodded, deepening the confusion.
"You see, Alan comes from a fairly prestigious noble family. He obtained his guardian a year ago and trained privately with tutors at home. No one knows why, but he decided to enroll in the academy."
Lucy now understood why the young man seemed older despite supposedly being her age. Elena crossed her arms beneath her chest, leaning slightly toward her companion. Her tone carried a teasing sweetness.
"You might have some competition, my dear."
Heat rose up Lucy's neck, coloring her face the same hue as her right eye. Her hands trembled briefly.
"No, it's not what you think. I just... It's just..." She searched for words amidst her rising anxiety. "It's the first time a boy has approached me and hasn't run away when he saw my eyes. Usually, they leave with some excuse or tense up. He was the only one who looked at me directly without backing away."
Elena let out a soft, good-natured laugh, as though enjoying a shared secret.
"Well, then I wish you the best of luck." She raised a thumb in approval, signaling her support for Lucy.
"I already told you it's not like that!" Lucy protested.
The young girl tried to maintain her dignity, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and attempting to regain her composure.
After a tour around the academy, they headed toward the first-year dormitories. The lower-class dorms were simple, at least. They were clean and well-maintained but lacked sophisticated furniture or wall decorations. The building's interior was painted beige and had stairs leading to the upper floors, with hallways lined with rooms on each level.
Elena and Lucy walked through the corridors, searching for their rooms. Well, in reality, Elena was only there to accompany Lucy. She looked at the numbers on the doors one by one until finally finding the one the concierge had indicated.
—Room 675…
Lucy tried to find a place to insert a key, but no matter how much she searched, she couldn't find anything. Seeing her confusion, Elena stepped closer.
—You have to place your palm on the circle in the middle. When you do, it will react to your anima, and the door will open on its own.
Lucy recalled how they had previously taken a sample of her anima, storing it in a strange orb, very similar to the one used during the bonding ceremony.
Following her friend's instructions, Lucy placed her hand on the circle with slight hesitation. As soon as she felt a faint tingling sensation, the door responded immediately. The wood parted with a dull click.
Lucy had always found anima reactions fascinating and the many ways it could be used. Each person's anima was like their unique identity—something impossible to replicate. She was always curious about who had made such discoveries, but no matter how many questions she asked, she never got answers.
She thought that since Director Larry had written his own book about anima, he might know something about it. Or perhaps she could find something in the academy's library.
She set her questions aside and stepped into the room with Elena. It wasn't very luxurious, but it was cozy. On the right was a wardrobe, and on the left, a decently sized bathroom with a shower and sink. The bed, directly ahead, had white sheets and a neatly folded blanket. Her few belongings rested atop the mattress. A narrow window let in some light, and when Lucy opened it, the chilly morning breeze enveloped her, clearing her mind. From there, she could see a garden where some students practiced fencing. Others rehearsed magical movements, tracing lines in the air with their hands.
—Do you like it?
Elena leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a faint smile on her lips. She watched Lucy, who inhaled deeply, marveling at the simplicity of the place.
—It's… cozy.
—I'm glad. —Elena watched as Lucy flopped onto the bed, unconcerned about the suitcase already there; she was clearly exhausted from the journey.— By the way, your uniform is in the wardrobe, so make sure to put it on before you go.
—Alright… —Lucy replied, her voice muffled by the pillow.
—I've got to get ready for my fencing class. See you later.
The door closed with a soft thud, and the echo of Elena's footsteps faded down the hallway. Lucy closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the cool air on her face. When she looked again, Elena was gone. With a bit of reluctance, she got up and opened the wooden wardrobe doors, revealing the neatly arranged garments inside.
Hanging carefully was the uniform she'd be wearing daily at the Binder Academy: a high-collared blouse with golden trim on the cuffs, a black jacket embroidered with the academy's crest on the chest, and a black pleated skirt with subtle white details. White stockings and shoes with golden buckles completed the outfit.
Lucy removed the garments carefully, laying them on the bed. The fabric felt soft and pleasant against her fingers.
She took off the clothes she had arrived in and, as she slid her arms into the sleeves and buttoned up the jacket, she felt quite nervous. The skirt rustled slightly as she adjusted it around her waist, and the cape rested lightly over her back. She glanced at herself in the mirror leaning against the wall. Her previously tense lips curved into a nervous smile.
There was still plenty of time before classes started, and she'd already eaten, so she had time to do the thing she loved second-most after reading: writing.
Since she was a child, Lucy had always loved reading. She enjoyed absorbing the words of all kinds of books; the longer, the better. Her favorite genres were fantasy and mystery, though she also liked romance stories quite a bit. However, she got so nervous reading them that, in some cases, she couldn't even finish. She often imagined herself in the protagonist's shoes, which only made her blush.
Her passion for reading made her want to write her own story—one of fantasy, filled with charismatic characters, a bit of mystery, and, if she could manage it, some romance. Though that part seemed far too difficult for her. She had made the protagonist almost identical to herself. Almost, because she didn't have mismatched eyes. At times, she even felt envious of her own character. The character had plenty of friends, and people didn't shy away from her when they saw her face.
Perhaps life would have treated her much better if she had been born… normal. Like everyone else.
She pushed those thoughts aside. Sitting down in her chair, she grabbed her bag and pulled out a bound notebook that contained the rest of the story she'd written so far. It was simple, but to her, it was worth more than a chest full of gold coins. She opened her pencil case and unzipped it, pulling out a pen and a small bottle of ink. She flipped through the notebook's pages until she found one that was nearly blank; it was the start of a new chapter, but all it had was the title, adorned with a few runes she had designed herself:
"Chapter 7: I'm Here"
She closed her eyes, trying to remember the reason behind that title. The last thing she recalled was writing the protagonist's lament after her father's death. Their enemy had found her and her friends and now wanted to silence them for good. Her father, who had always supported her, was gone, and all she had left was her grandmother, who tried her best to console her. But it was futile.
She imagined herself in a similar situation. What would she do? How would she feel? Would she be sad? Confused? She needed to live her protagonist's story as if it were her own.
After a few seconds, she knew exactly what to write, even though she still didn't remember the meaning behind the title. She grasped the pen firmly and began tracing the words, letting the ideas flow freely in her mind. Pico settled beside her, watching intently as she wrote.