Alex slept soundly on the worn leather couch, his form silhouetted by the dim light filtering through the windows. His friends sleeping figures dotted the couch, their quiet breathing the only sound in the stillness. His head rested against the couch's weathered back, the dirty blonde hair contrasting against the faded material.
Consciousness crept in slowly, his eyes opening to a world that felt wrong. The grogginess of sleep evaporated instantly, replaced by a surge of panic as unfamiliar surroundings swam into focus. His heart hammered against his ribs.
"Where am I?" The words escaped in a harsh whisper before memory crashed back like a cold wave. "Oh hell, that's right. I'm actually here." He pushed himself up from his seat, muscles tense, only to sink back down as the full weight of reality settled over him.
The fireplace loomed ahead, its empty hearth a dark mouth in the wall. Alex rubbed his forehead, feeling an odd disconnect between his alert body and his exhausted mind. His thoughts felt leaden, weighted with questions he wasn't sure he wanted answered.
His fingers found the emblem hanging at his neck, cool metal warming under his touch. 'OSAI,' he thought, tracing the intricate patterns etched into its surface. 'Omniscient Sentient Artificial Intelligence. What a proud name.'
'How do I ask it questions like Vespera said?' The words had barely formed in his mind when the emblem responded, coming alive with an ethereal purple glow. Light spilled outward like liquid amethyst, coalescing into something that belonged in the realms of science fiction - a holographic projection hovering in the air before him. It took shape as a floating display, complete with a digital face framed by two antenna-like protrusions at its top. The face bore what could only be described as a welcoming smile, waiting expectantly for his input, its purple light creating shadows across the room.
The OSAI's digital face flickered with a gentle pulse as it spoke, its voice carrying an oddly comforting mix of authority and warmth. "Hello, Sir Alex. My name is Alfred. I am your personal OSAI, assigned by Merlin himself." The purple light from its projection cast dancing shadows across the room's ancient walls. "I understand you lack basic knowledge of our world. Would you like a recap of the last hundred years?"
"Hold up how you read my thoughts?"
"Simple I'm connect to your soul and I could tell you were in need of me." Alfred states matter of a fact.
'Why am I even surprise.' Alex shakes his head.
"Back to what I ask Sir Alex would you like to learn basic knowledge of our world?"
"Yeah sure let me just wake up my friends."
Alex glanced at his sleeping friends, knowing they needed to hear this too. He reached over, gently shaking Max's shoulder. "Hey, wake up. You need to hear this."
"Five more minutes, Mom," Max mumbled, burrowing deeper into the worn leather of the couch.
"Dude, Max, seriously. This is important." Alex's voice carried an edge of urgency that finally seemed to reach through his friend's sleepy haze.
"Uh, fine, Alex, fine. Let me just—oh." Max's words cut off as he sat up, his eyes widening at the sight of the floating purple display. Next to him, Randy fumbled for his glasses, sliding them on before stretching.
The three boys settled into the couch, its aged leather creaking beneath them. Alfred's projection hovered before them like a supernatural television, its soft purple glow reflecting in their wide eyes. For the next two hours, they listened, barely moving except to exchange shocked glances as revelation after revelation washed over them.
Alfred stood patiently as Max worked through his understanding, the young man's brow furrowed in concentration. Of the three boys present, Max was visibly having the hardest time processing their situation.
"OK, OK, OK," Max said, holding up his hands. "Run it by me one more time. So you're telling me that Michigan - the state where I lived - is connected to this Darkwood seaside place we were summoned to?"
"Correct, Sir Max," Alfred replied with a slight nod.
"Right, right, I think I'm getting that part," Max continued, speaking faster as he pieced things together. "And when Vespera teleported us, we somehow ended up all the way in England?"
"That is also correct, Sir Max," Alfred confirmed, his tone steady and reassuring.
Max's eyes lit up as another piece clicked into place. "And the power Vespera used to teleport us - that comes from her bloodline, right? From her family?" He sat up straighter, growing more confident. "And her family is one of those ten families that make up the council ruling the United Front?"
Alex cut through the history lesson, his patience wearing thin. "Enough about the history, Alfred. You've gone on long enough about that. Let's get to some questions about us."
"Ask away, Sir Alex," Alfred replied, unfazed by the interruption.
"These bloodlines you've been talking about," Alex leaned forward, his interest evident. "How do we awaken our own?"
Alfred straightened his posture, his expression growing serious. "During the first week of school, the Academy conducts a ritual for those unable to awaken their bloodline naturally. The process requires the soul of a high-level beast."
"And that's it?" Alex pressed.
"Not quite," Alfred continued. "When you awaked you bloodline it also creates pathways through your body. For most people it will be your physical veins. However, if your bloodline is special in nature that could change." He paused, his tone growing grave. "It's worth noting that awakening a bloodline before the age of fifteen is extremely dangerous due to life force instability."
Randy's eyes narrowed. "And what would happen if someone tried?"
"Quite simple," Alfred replied, his matter-of-fact tone chilling in its directness. "They will die. Organ failure."
"Good thing we're all fifteen then," Max said with exaggerated relief, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow.
"What type of Bloodlines are there?" Randy asks ignoring Max.
"Of the known bloodlines there are 5 categories, them being Elemental, Celestial, Transformation, Blood Magic, and Shadow Magic. While each category can have many different types of bloodlines these are the only known categories in 5000 years of history."
"And which of the categories are the strongest." Alex asks
"Strongest is subjective but if we were to look at the average strength of users then it would have to be blood magic due to mostly vampires ruling this category. Since they have low birth rates ever since there not allow to turn humans into vampires as due to clause 3.2B."
"Interesting I would have thought that Celestial would be the strongest." Randy comments
"Celestial is second in average strength Sirs." Alfred adds.
However, before they could continue talking a low rumble comes from Max's stomach. A flush crept across his cheeks as he offered a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. Just a little hungry, you know?"
"You know what? I'm kind of hungry too," Alex admitted, turning his attention to the softly glowing hologram before them. "Hey Alfred, is there somewhere we can get food around here?"
The OSAI's purple light pulsed warmly as it responded. "Yes, Sir Alex. And as fortune would have it, dinner is about to commence in the dining hall." Alfred's projection flickered briefly as it detailed the route. "From your dorm room, proceed straight ahead, take a left, then right, ascend the stairs, and finally turn left once more until you reach the doors."
Alex's brow furrowed at the complex directions, his tired mind struggling to map the path. "Is there maybe an easier way?"
"Indeed there is, Sir Alex." Alfred's form shifted, and from its ethereal body emerged what appeared to be a translucent robotic arm, gleaming with an otherworldly sheen. With precise grace, it traced a path of brilliant blue light that stretched from its metallic fingertips toward the door, creating a luminescent trail that Alex assumed would guide them to their destination.
"What do you say, guys?" Alex gestured toward the glowing path. "Should we head out and get some food?"
Max's eyes lit up at the suggestion, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. "You know I never say no to a good meal," he grinned, already rising from his seat.
"I'm a little peckish too," Randy added, adjusting his glasses as he stood to join them.
The magical guide-light pulsed gently before them, casting strange shadows across the ancient walls as it beckoned them deeper into the academy's mysteries.
"Sir Alex, if I might make a suggestion before you head to the dining hall," Alfred interjected, his holographic form shimmering with quiet authority.
"Sure, go ahead."
"I believe it would be prudent to don the uniforms awaiting you in your closets."
"Oh, wicked! Uniforms!" Max's eyes lit up with boyish excitement. "I'm going to grab mine real quick. You guys get yours too?"
"Alright, sounds good," Randy nodded, already moving toward his room.
Stepping into his private quarters for the first time, Alex was struck by the contrast - while the shared living space sprawled like a luxury penthouse, his personal room was surprisingly modest. A queen-sized bed dominated the space, its dark wooden frame gleaming with subtle enchantments. In the corner, a sturdy desk stood ready for late-night studies, its surface unmarred and waiting. The closet, stretching ten feet long and four feet wide, seemed to hold secrets in its shadows.
Within its depths, a single uniform hung in solitary splendor. Alex drew it out reverently, laying it across his bed to study its details. The overcoat was a deep, smoky gray that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Beneath lay a shirt black as midnight, adorned with a precise line of silver buttons that caught the room's ambient glow. The collar rose with military precision, its edges crisp and slightly upturned, while silver epaulettes crowned the shoulders like badges of authority.
As Alex slipped into the uniform, its fabric settling against his skin with unexpected warmth, he couldn't help but smirk. 'Man, feels like I'm an officer in the army or something,' he thought, adjusting the collar. The material moved with him like a second skin, somehow both formal and practical - clearly designed for more than mere appearance.
The mirror reflected back an image that gave him pause - the boy who had walked to school this morning was gone, replaced by someone who looked like they belonged in this world of magic and mystery. The uniform's dark fabric seemed to hold shadows within its weave, suggesting hidden power waiting to be unveiled.
Having donned the uniform, Alex studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the enchanted fabric seeming to shift and settle around him like a second skin. "Huh, fits really nice," he mused, fingers tracing the precise seams. "Actually quite surprised. They must have gotten my measurements somehow." He shook his head, pushing away the questions that threatened to overwhelm him. "Can't think about that stuff. You just gotta move on man, accept the reality."
Stepping into the living room, he found Randy and Max lounging on the leather couch, their own uniforms lending them an air of belonging that felt both right and surreal.
"Dude, Alex, what took you so long?" Max called out, his voice echoing slightly in the ancient space.
"Oh, shut up, Max. Let's just get on with it," Alex retorted, though a smile tugged at his lips.
Following Alfred's ethereal blue guide-line, they ventured into the Academy's depths. The corridors unfolded before them like pages in an ancient tome, each turn revealing new wonders. Statues lined their path, their weathered faces holding untold stories. Near their dorm stood the figure of a rough-hewn man, short but emanating an aura of forgotten power. As they passed the common room, ten plaques commanded attention, each crowned with statues of younger figures - perhaps students whose deeds had earned them immortality in stone.
But what truly caught them off guard was the sudden presence of life among the stone sentinels - other students milled about the common area, their uniforms matching their own. After the empty corridors and ethereal encounters that had marked their arrival, the sight of normal teenage activity felt almost jarring.
"Hey, Alfred," Alex addressed the glowing emblem at his chest, his voice barely above a whisper, "where were all these students when we were with Vespera?" The question hung in the air like mist, another mystery in a day already overflowing with them.
The magical academy's halls seemed to hold their breath, waiting for Alfred's response while the blue guide-light pulsed steadily onward, leading them deeper into their new reality.
"Sir Merlin cast a veil of concealment upon you," Alfred explained, his ethereal voice carrying notes of reverence at the mention of the ancient wizard. "A ten-hour enchantment to ensure your transition remained undisturbed while Vespera guided you to your quarters. The spell offered you time to acclimate to your new surroundings without... unnecessary complications."
"Oh," Alex nodded, the pieces clicking into place. "That makes sense."
As they traversed the Commons, Alex's gaze wandered across the tapestry of uniforms before him, each one a testament to its wearer's place in the school's hierarchy. Some students wore robes of midnight black that seemed to swallow light itself, while others donned garments in brilliant azure that shimmered like captured sky. One figure even moved through the crowd in royal purple, the fabric rippling like liquid twilight with each step.
Yet amid this kaleidoscope of magical fashion, one constant remained - the emblem they all bore, either suspended from their necks on delicate chains or proudly displayed upon their chests. The skull with its contradictory wings - one blessed with angelic grace, the other twisted with demonic potential - marked them all as children of this mystical academy.
Alex found his eyes drawn to his fellow students again and again, each glance weighted with uncertainty. In his old world, such obvious staring might have earned him a confrontation or at least an annoyed glare. But here? The rules were as foreign as the magic that permeated the air.
One truth became increasingly clear - these students carried themselves differently than any he'd known before. It wasn't mere teenage bravado or artificial confidence; there was something more fundamental in their bearing. Whether born of ancient bloodlines, magical prowess, or simple birthright, each student radiated an aura of absolute belonging. They moved through the space as if the very stones beneath their feet had been laid for their passage, their expressions ranging from quiet self-assurance to unconcealed pride in their heritage.
The difference was stark enough to make Alex's chest tighten with a familiar sensation - the same feeling he'd had on his first day at his old school, amplified a hundredfold by the supernatural elements surrounding him. Here, more than ever, he felt the weight of being an outsider looking in, even as his own uniform marked him as one of them.
Most students in the Commons paid them little heed, their attention focused on their own concerns and conversations. Yet among the sea of uniforms, a few older students cast knowing glances their way, their eyes holding secrets that seemed to weigh heavier than mere curiosity.
One figure in particular drew Alex's attention - a student wearing a uniform of such vibrant crimson it seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. The collar rose like a protective wall against their throat, and their hair gleamed white as fresh snow against skin so pale it appeared almost translucent. The contrast between this ethereal being and Alex's group was stark - like comparing moonlight to sunlight.
'That has to be a vampire,' Alex thought, meeting the stranger's gaze for a heartbeat before looking away. The weight of that stare felt ancient, carrying centuries of history in a single glance.
Before the vampire's scrutiny could become overwhelming, they emerged from the Commons into the dining hall. The vast space opened before them like a feast for the senses - multiple buffet stations stretched in elegant arrays, each one its own island of culinary possibility.
Floating signs hovered above each station, their text gleaming with subtle enchantment. Traditional offerings like sushi, Italian, and barbecue stood alongside more exotic fare - stations labeled "Beast Meat" and "Bird Meat" hinted at creatures far removed from ordinary livestock. A separate station marked simply "Blood" served as a stark reminder of the academy's diverse student body.
The mingled aromas created an intoxicating symphony - familiar scents of grilled meats and fresh bread dancing with exotic spices Alex couldn't begin to name. Steam rose in delicate spirals, carrying promises of flavors from both this world and beyond.
"Alfred," Alex addressed his emblem, his voice barely carrying over the gentle clatter of plates and murmur of conversation, "what's the protocol here? Do we just help ourselves, or is there some kind of magical ordering system?"
"For first through fourth years, you must collect your own meals," Alfred explained, his holographic form pulsing with gentle authority. "The Academy believes these formative years should be spent fostering connections. The simple act of gathering food alongside your peers creates natural opportunities for discourse."
"Alright then, you heard the man. Let's get some food," Alex said, his stomach quietly reminding him of the day's chaos.
Though his appetite felt dampened by the day's revelations, Alex made his way to the deli station, where enchanted lights cast a warm glow over displays of fresh ingredients. He selected a turkey and ham sandwich, its bread still warm as if just pulled from an ethereal oven. Steam rose in delicate wisps from a bowl of vegetables he added to his plate, their colors almost too vibrant to be natural. A crystal goblet of water completed his modest meal, the liquid catching and refracting light like liquid diamonds.
The dining hall stretched before them, its vaulted ceiling disappearing into shadows above. Ancient chandeliers floated without visible support, their flames casting dancing shadows across tables of dark, polished wood. Finding an empty table that could accommodate their group, they settled in, the chairs adjusting themselves with subtle magic for perfect comfort.
As they ate, the boys found themselves amazed by flavors that seemed enhanced by some unseen force - even Alex's simple sandwich carried notes of herbs he couldn't name, each bite more satisfying than the last. Their conversation drifted between observations of their supernatural surroundings, voices kept low as if afraid to disturb the ancient air around them.
"Dude, did you guys check out the Magical Beast Meat section?" Max's eyes gleamed with excitement as he leaned forward, his voice barely containing his enthusiasm.
"No, went straight to the deli," Alex replied between bites. "Why?"
"Man, you should've seen it!" Max's hands moved animatedly as he spoke. "They had these steaks that literally shimmered with magic - I was about to grab one when my emblem started practically vibrating with warning." He tapped the skull insignia at his chest. "Apparently, eating magical beast meat before awakening is a one-way ticket to supernatural food poisoning. Something about our bodies not being ready to process the magical energy yet."
The mention of awakening hung in the air between them, a reminder of the transformations that awaited them in this mystical academy's halls. Around them, other students' emblems gleamed with subtle power, marking them as those who had already crossed that threshold into their magical heritage.
"Alright then, you heard the man. Let's eat," Alex said, his voice nearly lost in the grand acoustics of the dining hall's vaulted ceiling, where enchanted chandeliers cast dancing shadows across centuries-old stone.
Despite the day's chaos dulling his appetite, Alex made his way to the deli station, where magical preservation spells kept ingredients at perfect freshness. He selected a turkey and ham sandwich, its bread still carrying warmth as if touched by supernatural ovens. Steam rose in mesmerizing patterns from the steamed vegetables he added to his plate, their colors almost too vivid to be natural. Crystal-clear water filled his goblet, the liquid catching and fragmenting light like trapped starlight.
The dining hall stretched before them, a cathedral to sustenance both mundane and magical. Between the towering columns and ancient tapestries, they found an empty table, its dark wood gleaming with subtle enchantments. The chairs seemed to adjust themselves as they sat, conforming to each boy's posture with uncanny precision.
As they ate, conversation drifted between them like smoke, punctuated by the subtle symphony of cutlery and quiet amazement at flavors that seemed enhanced by some unseen force. Even Alex's simple sandwich carried notes of herbs that existed nowhere in their old world, each bite a reminder of their extraordinary circumstance.
"Dude, did you guys pass by the Magical Beast Meat section?" Max leaned forward, his eyes alight with wonder, voice barely containing his excitement.
"No, went straight to the deli," Alex replied between bites. "Why?"
"Let me tell you," Max gestured animatedly with his fork, "there was meat there that literally glowed with power. I was about to grab this steak that seemed to shimmer like a mirage, but my emblem," he tapped the skull insignia at his chest, "warned me off. Said something about magical food poisoning since we haven't awakened yet."
"Man, that sucks," Alex sympathized, watching as nearby students fearlessly consumed cuts of meat that seemed to pulse with otherworldly energy. Another reminder of the power they had yet to claim in this realm of endless wonders and hidden dangers.
Around them, the dining hall hummed with the quiet energy of dozens of awakened students, their emblems gleaming with subtle power - a constant reminder of the transformation that awaited the three friends in this mystical academy's halls.
Their conversation halted as a shadow fell across their table like a passing cloud, drawing their attention to a newcomer's presence. The figure claiming the empty seat wore a uniform of brilliant orange that seemed to pulse with its own inner light against the dining hall's ethereal ambiance.
The stranger's appearance struck an odd contrast - his rounded face and military-precise buzzcut suggested someone trying to embody martial discipline while still holding onto civilian comforts. Despite his somewhat peculiar appearance, there was an undeniable warmth in his demeanor that softened his militant styling.
"Hope you don't mind the intrusion," he said, his voice carrying notes of genuine friendliness. "Couldn't help but notice you're unfamiliar faces. The grey uniforms mark you as unawakened first years, like myself, and I figured introductions were in order since we'll be sharing classes."
"Derek Smithwell," he offered, extending a hand that told its own story - calluses mapped constellations across his palm, speaking of countless hours of physical labor. The skin was rough but honest, marking him as someone who understood the value of hard work.
Max reached out first, matching Derek's grip with equal firmness. "Pleasure's mine, Derek. Max Grayson," he replied, their handshake carrying the weight of future camaraderie.
"Alex," came the simple introduction as Alex took his turn at the greeting, his hand meeting Derek's in a solid shake that bridged their worlds for a moment.
But something shifted in that instant - Derek's previously welcoming expression darkened like storm clouds gathering on a summer day. The change was subtle but unmistakable, his features hardening at the mere mention of Alex's name as if it carried some hidden significance in this magical realm. The dining hall's ambient light seemed to dim around them, the moment heavy with unspoken tension.
"What's this guy's problem?" The thought had barely formed in Alex's mind when Derek yanked his hand away as if scalded by cursed iron, his fingers curling into a protective fist against his chest.
The dining hall's enchanted lights seemed to dim, casting longer shadows across Derek's face as his expression twisted with unveiled contempt. "You mind telling me, Sir Grayson," he spat the honorific like poisoned honey, "why you're consorting with this filthy commoner?" Each word dripped with disdain thick enough to rival basilisk venom.
The magical atmosphere grew heavy, pressing down on them like an invisible storm front. The emblems on their uniforms pulsed with subtle warning, responding to the rising tension.
"The fuck you talking about, dude?" Max erupted from his seat, the chair scraping against ancient stone with a sound like angry spirits. He thrust himself into Derek's space, their uniforms - orange and grey - creating a stark contrast of status and power. "You picking a fight with me and my friends, huh?"
The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, thick enough to taste - like lightning about to strike. Around them, other students began to take notice, their conversations falling into hushed whispers that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.
Confusion flickered across Derek's features, his certainty fracturing like thin ice. The expression suggested someone whose worldview had just tilted sideways - as if the very laws of nature had suddenly reversed themselves. The idea of an elite defending a commoner seemed to short-circuit something fundamental in his understanding of the social order.
His voice, when it returned, carried equal parts bewilderment and renewed disgust. "So what if I insulted your commoner?" The words carved through the tension like a rusted blade. "He should know his place – is with the pigs, eating from their trough, not at the elite's table."
"Who told you I was an elite?" Max says as he places his hand on Derreck's shoulder. Derreck's eyebrows draw together in a contemplative frown.
"Well, it's simple really - you gave me a last name. Only elites or noblemen have those." A dangerous glint flashes in Derreck's eyes as he continues, "So what, are you lying to me then, huh?"
His arm rises with predatory grace, palm settling against Max's chest with deliberate slowness. Heat emanates from Derreck's touch, building from warm to scorching, like metal left too long in the sun. "Seems to me you understand the severity of what you just claimed," his voice drops lower, more menacing. "You should know it's a Class 1 misdemeanor to impersonate a noble. Unless you've got the town to back it up, no one's going to take you seriously. Someone's going to put you in your place."
"Someone like you?" Max challenges.
The air crackles as Derreck's hand erupts into flames, searing through Max's uniform with a violent hiss. Max stumbles backward, shock written across his features as the reality of magic manifests before him.
Before Max can process the damage, Randy launches forward with the clumsy determination of someone who'd never thrown a real punch. His fist carves a wild arc through the air, but Derreck simply leans back, dodging the amateur strike with practiced ease. His face twists into a sneer before he drives his fist into Randy's chest. Randy crumples to the ground, an angry red scorch mark blazing across his solar plexus where Derreck's burning fist had connected.
"Arrgh!" Randy's pained cry echoes across the ground as he crashes against the unforgiving surface, the scorch mark on his chest still radiating waves of searing heat.
Not willing to leave his friends defenseless, Alex steps forward with fierce determination. His jab cracks through the air like thunder, connecting with Derreck's cheek in a satisfying impact that snaps the bully's head to the side.
Derreck whirls back with predatory grace, flames already dancing around his clenched fist as he prepares to strike. But before his burning knuckles can find their mark, Max barrels into him with the unstoppable force of a charging bull, driving them both to the ground with bone-jarring force.
"Eat Shit Asshole," Max snarls, driving his elbow down in a vicious arc that connects with a sickening crunch. Blood sprays from Derreck's shattered nose as Max rains down blow after devastating blow, his fists finding their mark with brutal efficiency.
But even as Alex and Randy move to help, the air around Derreck begins to shimmer with deadly heat, warping like desert mirages. In one fluid motion, Derreck brings his hands together in a thunderous clap. The sound reverberates through the air moments before a wave of searing flames explodes outward, catching all three boys in its infernal embrace. The force hurls them backward like ragdolls, their bodies crashing into the table they'd been peacefully sitting at mere moments ago.
Alex's knee collides with the table's unforgiving edge, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through his body. A guttural growl tears from his throat as he turns to face Derreck, his vision swimming with spots of darkness and pain. The sight before him defies comprehension - flames dancing across Derreck's skin like living armor, casting malevolent shadows across his face.
'What the hell is that?' The thought barely forms in Alex's mind as he struggles to his feet, his good knee trembling beneath him. The air around them crackles with magical energy, heavy with the scent of scorched fabric and burning rage.
But before he can steady himself for another round, Derreck materializes before him like a demon born of flame and fury. His fist, wreathed in writhing fire, connects with Alex's temple in a devastating arc. The impact sends Alex careening across the ground, his body leaving a trail of scattered debris before coming to rest with a thunderous crash.
"Worthless pig," Derreck spits, his words dripping with venomous contempt. "Eat the ground, you soft blood." Each syllable carries the heat of his contempt, the air around him still shimmering with residual magical energy as he stands over his fallen opponent.
Derreck raises his fist skyward, channeling his essence into a maelstrom of flame. The fire grows from a mere kitchen flicker into a raging inferno. The flames dancing around his clenched fingers casting writhing shadows across his hate-twisted features.
His arm descends in a devastating arc, the concentrated inferno roaring with promised violence as it speeds toward Alex's prone form. The very air seems to crack and splinter under the heat's intensity, the world holding its breath before the killing blow.
'I'm going to die.' Alex can't help but think seeing the firestorm brewing above him.
But fate, it seems, has other plans.
A barrier materializes between them, its surface rippling like sun-kissed water yet harder than diamond. As Derreck's flaming fist connects, the shield drinks in his fire like a thirsting creature, transforming the deadly orange-red heat into harmless light before dissolving it into nothingness. The barrier stands unmarred, a testament to power far beyond their petty squabble.
A translucent barrier forms in front of Derek's fist. His fist strikes the barrier with a hard thud. The fiery energy in Derek's hand transfers into the barrier, turning it bright orange before breaking apart, dispersing the flames unevenly and weakened.
A translucent barrier materializes before Derek's fist. His strike connects with a hard thud, fiery energy transferring from his hand into the barrier. It turns bright orange before breaking apart, dispersing weakened flames unevenly through the air.
"Who dares?" Derek turns, searching for whoever would interrupt his fight.
"Me." From the crowd emerges a human girl with glasses, her petite frame standing out as she holds up both hands radiating silver light like moonbeams. Dropping her hands against her silvery uniform, she strolls through the crowd.
"Oh, and who might you be, miss?" Derek says condescendingly. "You should know that messing with me is a recipe for disaster."
"Hmm, interesting. I thought everybody knew who I am. Well, how about I introduce myself? I'm Stella Astralith. Pleasure to meet you," Stella announces, standing tall while making her way to Alex.
Hearing her name, Derek's eyes widen before settling into a smirk.
"Ah, the infamous love child of Lord Astralith. What makes you think you have power over me? Heir to the Ignivar family, while you can't even step into your family's manor."
"You see, Derek, you need to stop asking if I have the authority to stop you. You should be asking yourself - do you even have the authority to attack them?"
Scoffing, Derek laughs in her face. "Lowly commoners, the filth beneath my feet. Do I have the authority? I pity your ignorance."
"No, Derek, I pity you. For those three aren't just any commoners. They're Daywalkers."
The surrounding students burst into gasps, murmuring among themselves about these supposed Daywalkers. They all know their world's history from 2000 years ago, when the heroes sacrificed themselves. Learning these three are from that world leaves them stunned.
"You must be jesting, Miss Astralith. We all know the knowledge of traversing realms was lost with the heroes. What makes you boldly claim these filth are Daywalkers?"
"Oh, nothing at all actually. I was just stalling for the professor to show up. Speaking of which..." Stella looks around as a large figure breaks through the crowd.
"Enough of this madness. All of you, head back to what you were doing. This isn't some arena for spectacle and games."
The professor stands tall in his dark suit and tie, an emblem adorning his chest, his silver hair slicked back. His lanky frame emanates a mystique aura.
"Miss Astralith, head back to your dorm room. Thank you for maintaining a safe environment for our students. And you, young Ignivar, visit nurse Wendy to amend your wounds, then report to my office."
"Ohhh," the crowd exhales collectively, like witnessing someone in trouble.
"Don't make me repeat myself. Scram." The professor glares at the lingering students. They stiffen, cold sweat forming, before finally dispersing.
Turning to the three boys grimacing in pain, the professor approaches, pulling out three vials from his pouch. "You three, drink this and follow me to my office. We need to talk."
The professor's stern voice and look melts away Derek's previous vigor as he slowly departs to tend his wounds. Stella, ever obedient to the professor's orders, heads to her dorm room, adjusting her glasses with a smile.
Kneeling before Alex, the professor offers one of the vials. "Drink this. I'll tend to your wounds for now."
Taking the vial, Alex runs his finger over its glass surface, watching the red liquid shine through. Opening the lid, he feels the cold liquid run down his throat, its bitter taste spreading.
'All medicine tastes bitter, doesn't it? Even in a fantasy world,' Alex grimaces as he feels energy rush to his injuries, providing subtle relief.
Without dwelling on this world's wonders, Alex takes the professor's offered hand and stands.
Once all three can stand, they follow the professor to his office, trailing behind like quiet students headed to the principal's office.
The three boys fall in line.