Having taken Professor Bain's advice to heart, Alex and his two friends spent the next week and a half immersed in the library, consulting with the professor himself and exploring the academy's vast expanse. During this time, their knowledge expanded exponentially as they delved into the intricacies of their new world, from the political complexities of the United Front to the subtle cultural dynamics within the Academy's hallways.
As Alex, Randy, and Max absorbed everything they could, the once-barren corridors gradually filled with life. Students now populated every corner, their presence transforming the empty halls into vibrant thoroughfares buzzing with energy. Along with this newfound vitality came the inevitable spread of rumors - whispered conversations about their confrontation with Derek weeks ago, and Stella's mysterious claims still circulating through the student body.
Sitting in the dining hall, the three boys conversed amongst themselves, their voices low against the ambient chatter. Randy paused between bites of mashed potatoes, his expression troubled.
"Dude, it's getting ridiculous," he said, gesturing with his fork. "I went down to pick up another book about necromancers in the library, and this lady just kept following me. It was really weird. I tried acting like I didn't notice, but she wouldn't back off. Before I knew it, I was practically running, and she still kept chasing me. Finally managed to lose her when I made it back to the dorm room, but bro, I don't know what's wrong with her."
Max pointed his spoon at Randy, bits of food catching the dining hall's light. "I told you, man, it wasn't a good idea to grab books this late. The weirdos are always prowling around then. No matter how many times we tell them we aren't Daywalkers, they keep clinging to that rumor."
"I mean, can you blame people?" Alex interjected, absently tracing the embroidered emblem on his uniform - the once-necklace now proudly displayed over his heart. "We appeared out of nowhere, with no noble lineage to our names, yet somehow we're inseparable which is uncommon for commoners. And now with these new uniforms broadcasting our bloodlines to everyone..." He gestured at his own attire, where it's purplish blue tone shines in the light.
Max flexed dramatically, his red and black uniform stretching across his enhanced frame. "True, but while you're getting unwanted attention, I'm just out here looking magnificent in my colors. What can I say? The red and black really accentuate my natural charm."
"Oh, shut it," Randy groaned, another shudder rippling through him as he recalled his recent pursuer. "At least you guys don't have creeps trying to dissect your bloodline like some fascinating specimen."
"Hey man," Max's teasing grin widened, "it's not our fault the necrotic bloodline users are so tight-knit with their secrets. They're just trying to welcome you into the family..." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Though they might prefer welcoming your dismembered parts into their research labs."
"Oh great," Randy drawled, his sarcasm dripping like venom as he stabbed at his remaining potatoes. "I can't wait to be dissected like some prized specimen. I'm sure they'll be kind enough to keep me alive through their seventeen millionth examination." His dark humor carried an edge of genuine unease, his fingers unconsciously tracing the emblem that marked him as a wielder of death magic. "Because that's exactly how I wanted to spend my academic career - as someone's twisted research project."
"Enough talk about being cut open," Alex set his fork down with a disheartened sigh, shaking his head at his friends. "Look what you've done. I can't even finish this beautiful plate of mashed potatoes and chicken."
"Fine, we'll change the subject," Randy conceded, grateful for the shift in conversation. "Have either of you decided on clubs or electives?"
"Oh man, that's a big question." Max leaned back, his enhanced frame casting a shadow across their table. "But I've been thinking - you know how I always wanted to get into boxing? Well, the unarmed defense class seems pretty similar to that practice, so I figured I'd give it a shot."
"What about you, Randy?" Max prodded, genuinely curious about his friend's choices.
Randy's eyes lit up with unexpected enthusiasm. "I'm thinking of joining the artificer club and taking the enchanting elective." His expression brightened as he contemplated the possibilities.
"That's an interesting choice," Alex chimed in, leaning forward with interest. "I thought you were set on the summoning class. What changed?"
Randy's fingers traced abstract patterns on the table as he gathered his thoughts. "Well, I've been thinking about my bloodline - all the books talk about liches commanding armies of skeletons and zombies, conducting experiments in hidden labs. It's all death-focused." He paused, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "But I want to try something different. Instead of raising the dead, I want to create and enhance things with my necrotic essence. Not because they're dead, but because I want to imbue them with those properties. I don't know..." His voice trailed off as he scratched his head, suddenly self-conscious about sharing his aspirations.
"You don't need to feel embarrassed, man," Max offered reassuringly, his enhanced frame relaxing into a more casual posture. "We get it. I haven't figured out my club yet, but I'm sure when I do, I'll feel just as passionate." He turned his attention across the table. "What about you, Alex?"
"I'm thinking of joining the Arcane Library," Alex replied with quiet determination, his transformed eyes reflecting the dining hall's ethereal light.
Randy nearly choked on his drink, setting it down with careful deliberation. "That's quite a shift from yesterday. Weren't we all planning to lay low for the first few years, try to maintain some semblance of normal life? What made you decide to join one of the major factions now?"
Alex leaned forward, his voice dropping to ensure their privacy. "I've given it a lot of thought. While another club might be more entertaining, starting early with the Arcane Library could give me enough authority by our fourth year to access classified research and higher clearance materials." His fingers traced the edge of his plate absently. "Is sacrificing four years of typical student life really that steep a price when we consider what's at stake?" His gaze swept meaningfully across their daily study sanctuary, the library that had become their second home.
"Hey man," Randy raised his hands in a gesture of support, "it's your choice, your path to walk. We'll stick to our original plan, but don't think we're slacking just because we're taking a different approach. Whatever gets us closer to our goal, right?"
"What he said," Max added, punctuating Randy's sentiment with a firm nod.
"Don't worry, guys, I completely understand," Alex assured them, his transformed eyes catching the light. "You should pursue what interests you. Besides," he added with a hint of sheepishness, "my elective choice is actually more laid-back."
Randy's smugness radiated across the table. "Contradicting yourself already, I see."
"It's different," Alex protested, gesturing emphatically. "An elective only lasts a semester. The Arcane Library is a long-term commitment. There's a distinction."
"Rationalize it however you want," Randy teased, adopting an exaggerated mockery of Alex's tone. "Blah blah blah, my name's Alex, I can say and do whatever because I'm so special with my double awakening, blah blah blah, I'm so cool."
"Very funny," Alex rolled his eyes before scratching his chin self-consciously. "If you must know, I chose piano class."
"Piano class?" Max's brow furrowed in confusion. "A man of your talents?"
"I know it seems strange," Alex's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, his words carrying the weight of unspoken longing. "But doing something so familiar, so connected to home..." He let the thought trail off, conscious of potential eavesdroppers in the bustling dining hall.
The mention of home stripped away their playful smiles, replacing them with expressions of quiet understanding. The weight of their true purpose settled over their table like an invisible shroud.
"I respect that, man," Max offered quietly, acknowledging the pain without dwelling on forbidden topics.
Randy's voice carried gentle determination. "We'll make it. We'll make it back."
"I sure hope so," Alex murmured, his transformed eyes distant with memories of a world that felt increasingly far away.
Finishing their meal, the three boys made their way to the library, noting the distinct change in atmosphere as they traversed the corridors. The once-constant murmurs that had followed their passage had dimmed considerably - the student body gradually accepting these three unknowns with their powerful bloodlines as part of the Academy's tapestry.
At the library's entrance, they approached the librarian's desk where a middle-aged man sat, his round glasses perched precisely on his nose and curly hair framing his weathered features.
"Well, if it isn't the Three Stooges," he greeted them warmly, his eyes twinkling with familiar amusement. "What can I do for you lads today?"
"I was hoping you had information about the Arcane Library," Alex ventured, his transformed eyes catching the light.
"Ah, so you've finally made your decision. Good, good." The librarian nodded approvingly. "There'll be a recruitment fair during the first week of school where you'll receive detailed pamphlets, but I can give you a quick overview. For the history and member records, head to section F8, row 23. Your OSAI will guide you to the specific texts." He turned his attention to the others. "And you two?"
"The Enchanting 101 guide, please," Randy requested. The librarian directed him to the first row of the enchanting section with practiced efficiency.
"Max?" he prompted, turning to the last of the trio.
"Still wavering on club selection," Max admitted, scratching his head. "I know recruitment's coming up, but some advance research couldn't hurt."
"Back to that book again?" The librarian's smile held knowing sympathy. "You've been quite thorough in your considerations. I'll keep it reserved in the usual spot." He adjusted his glasses, regarding the three with paternal warmth. "Have a productive session, lads."
"Thanks, Mr. Brunswick," Alex called back as they dispersed to their respective sections, each pursuing their chosen paths of knowledge with determined steps.