The last echoes of footsteps faded from the corridor outside, leaving the classroom wrapped in an expectant silence. I stood near the back, my shoulders tense, while Rowan and Alina flanked me like worried sentries. Professor Eris's crystal blue eyes fixed on me, and I found myself studying the worn stones of the floor, unable to meet that penetrating gaze.

  The silence stretched until Alina's voice broke it, tentative yet concerned. "How are you feeling, Professor?"

  The word caught me off guard. I'd heard whispers in the feast hall, but she'd seemed perfectly fine during class. Just rumors, I'd thought.

  A gentle smile curved her lips as she regarded Alina. "Perfectly fine, Miss Eveline." Her gaze shifted to me, those mysterious eyes seeming to peer into my very soul. "You should ask that of your friend there."

  I forced myself to meet her gaze, fighting the strange pull I felt whenever our eyes met. "Sleep did its work," I managed. "For some reason, even my essence seems... calmer."

  "That would be her..." Rowan began eagerly, "She did—"

  "I did nothing great," She cut in smoothly, though something flickered behind her eyes. "Just a… little spell, and everything worked well for you. It's special in its own way. Magic may have its will, but yours has a consciousness of its own. It was tainted by a foul curse that has been cleansed by me."

  "Curse?" Alina's scholarly interest sparked visibly. "Isn’t that dark magic? It is considered forbidden for dozens of years after…"

  Rowan shifted his weight, brow furrowed. "Doesn’t removing curses require the purest essence? Only priests would have those... mainly elves’ priests."

  A soft chuckle escaped her as she moved behind her desk. "Do I look like one, Mr. Thorvald?"

  Rowan laughed nervously, glancing at me for support. I could only offer a small smile, my mind still wrestling with the implications of her words.

  She moved behind her desk, her robes flowing like water, and pulled out a cloth-wrapped package. “Einar,” she called, her voice soft, gentle, almost... affectionate. “Come here.”

  My body moved before I could think, my feet carrying me toward her as if drawn by an invisible force. Her presence wrapped around me, warm and familiar, making my heart beat like a drum.

  She unwrapped the cloth, revealing a wand. It was slim, a deep, rich brown about 8 inches with delicate cracks of blue running along its surface, glowing faintly like lightning trapped in wood. My breath caught in my throat. It felt... alive.

  “This is for you,” she said, her voice low and steady. “You’ve been using a wand with no core, which by means is not compatible with you, but this one will suit you better than any other.” Her eyes held mine, unwavering, unguarded for a moment. “Go on. Try it.”

  I reached out, my fingers trembling, and grasped the wand by its handle. A surge of energy coursed through me, warm and electric, filling my veins with power. It felt... right.

  Without a word, she flicked her wand, and a practice puppet moved from the corner, settling in the center. “Let’s see how it responds to your essence,” she murmured, stepping back. Her presence lingered, warm and steady, grounding me.

  I took a deep breath, raising the wand. Its weight was perfect, its balance flawless. I closed my eyes, focusing on my essence, feeling it pulse within me, wild and untamed. But this time, it didn’t surge uncontrollably. It flowed, steady and obedient, guided by the wand in my hand.

  I flicked my wrist, mimicking the motion she’d shown us. “Vistris.”

  A burst of energy erupted from the wand, crackling with red lightning. It shot across the room, striking the puppet square in the chest. The puppet flew back, slamming into the wall with a resounding thud before returning to its spot, unscathed.

  I stared at the wand, half-expecting it to be shattered, broken like the others. But it was flawless, its surface unmarred. The cracks of blue glowed softly, absorbing the lingering traces of my essence.

  A soft chuckle broke the silence. “Satisfied?” Her voice was warm, teasing, and so familiar that it made my heart ache. “I told you it would suit you.”

  I looked at her, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “It’s perfect... Professor. It feels... like it’s made for me.”

  Her smile faltered, just for a heartbeat, before she composed herself. “That’s because it is,” she said quietly, her eyes shimmering with something unspoken. “The wood is from an ancient tree in the northern forests, and its core is a feather from a Raijin, a bird that controls thunder. It was the only core that could match your essence, along with the wood that would absorb unnecessary energy released for the spell. The same energy that would destroy most of the wands, but not this one.”

  "Thank you, Professor," I said softly. "For this, and yesterday."

  "It’s my duty, Einar." Something changed in her expression. "Ah. There's one more thing." From within her robes, she withdrew a broken amulet, its stone shattered. "I found this yesterday. It was already broken... thought it might mean something to you."

  Her hand brushed mine as she placed the amulet in my palm, and that simple touch sent a jolt through my entire body. "It was a memory," I managed, my voice rough. "A memory of two of the most precious people in my life."

  "Who were they? If I may ask…" she asked, her voice gentle as a summer breeze. Behind me, I could sense Rowan and Alina exchanging confused glances.

  "My mother..." The words caught in my throat. "And..." I stopped.

  “I apologize for asking something personal,” she said softly, revealing a black ring adorned with ancient runes. “This was found inside the amulet.”

  My hands trembled as I took it. The runes were in a language I'd never seen, yet somehow understood. A memory crashed over me of my bonding ritual with Valeria, and the rings personally crafted by my brother, Zenitha’ar. They were special.

  "This..." Words failed me as I clutched the ring.

  Alina leaned closer, scholarly interest overcoming hesitation. "What's this black ring? And those carvings... it's like an artifact."

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  "Indeed it is," Professor Eris confirmed. "The black metal is actually black iron, found only in the next of dragons… there was one in Bloodmare, but that was centuries ago. And the carvings are written in the same language as the runes... they are ancient. Runes are said to be the first language used by men… Perhaps whoever created it was a runemaster like the founders of this school."

  Rowan’s eyes widened, his voice awed. “Black iron... but it’s incredibly rare.” He looked at her ring, his eyes narrowing. “Professor... don’t you have a ring like that? With carvings?”

  The air grew cold. The warmth in her expression vanished, replaced by a mask of calm indifference. Her shoulders tensed, her fingers curling into her robes. “It’s different, Mr. Thorvald,” she said, her voice clipped, colder than I’d ever heard it. “My ring aids my magic. Nothing more.”

  I swallowed hard, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Professor, may I... ask you something of you?”

  She looked at me, her mask slipping for just a moment. Her lips parted, her eyes softening, a familiar warmth radiating from her. “Yes, Einar?”

  My mouth went dry, my pulse racing. “Will you help me with my magic?” My voice was hoarse, desperate. “It’s... different. It’s not like the others. I couldn’t ask anyone else of this…”

  Alina gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Einar, you can’t—”

  Professor held up a hand, silencing her. Her eyes were locked on mine, her expression unreadable. “Are you certain you can trust me?” she asked, her voice low, heavy with warning. “There are many who would... exploit such trust. The magical world has both light and darkness, many would seek to understand what you are by ripping you apart, limb to limb.” Her gaze softened, her shoulders relaxing. “Are you willing to take that risk?”

  I looked down at the ring in my hand, feeling its cold weight, the ancient power thrumming through my veins. “For some reason, I trust you. I’ve trusted you since the moment I saw you.” My chest tightened, pain swelling within me, inexplicable and all-consuming. “I thought survival brought me to this place. But it was something else. My mother said my fate wasn’t in the village.” I looked up, meeting her eyes, my voice cracking. “You were the one who saved me. You calmed my magic. You taught me to cast the spell without any damage. I can’t explain it... but it has to be you. Fate has brought me here. To you.”

  Her eyes shimmered, tears glistening at the corners. She looked away, her jaw tightening, her shoulders trembling. “Fate... huh? It truly is cruel,” she whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear it. “Very well,” she said, her voice firmer, more composed. “I’ll help you. Your magic is... unique. I’ve only seen one other like it.” Her gaze drifted to the ring. “I won’t let you face this alone. It is my duty as your teacher and… as your house head.”

  Rowan cleared his throat, stepping forward nervously. “Uh, Professor... if you’re taking students for special training, perhaps you would like me to join as well.”

  A faint smile gracing her lips. “Not yet, Mr. Thorvald. Special sessions are granted to students only after the Trials of the First. These trials take place before the end of the first term, you will have your chance then to impress not only me but all other professors.”

  Rowan’s face fell. “Trials? Are you talking about those sick old trials that even the founders once had to clear?”

  “Yes. Those very ‘sick’ old trials. They are held every year for young sorcerers; failing them is not an option if you want to advance in magic. Take it as the age of coming for sorcerers. For now, each spell casted by your wand will be traceable by the school. But after that, you will be true sorcerers in the world. Till then, we will be responsible for any deeds done by first years, with or without malice.”

  “That… seems right.” Rowan sighed.

  Alina smiled, her eyes sparkling with determination. “I’ve already decided on which professor to impress. Professor Varon. I want to pursue alchemy and getting special sessions from her would strengthen my foundation.”

  Professor’s smile grew, genuine and warm. “Truly noble path, Miss Eveline. ” Her eyes shifted to me, her expression softening. “Einar, your case is special this time. I will let the headmaster know about it, you should meet him in the office and get his permission. The earlier you get his permission, the sooner we can start. Your magic is unlike any I’ve seen, and we’ll need time to understand it. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

  I felt my chest tighten as my gaze met her’s, gratitude flooding through me. “Thank you, Val—” The name slipped out before I could stop it, a whisper meant for someone else leave for hers. I froze, my eyes widening in horror.

  Professor’s face went pale, her eyes widening, her lips parting. For a moment, her mask shattered, and raw pain flickered across her face. “What... did you say?” Her voice trembled, fragile, broken.

  I backed away, my heart racing, panic surging through me. “I... I meant... Professor. Sorry. I... I need to go.” I turned and fled, my footsteps echoing through the empty hall, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Behind me, her voice echoed, soft and shattered, a whisper carried on the wind. “Valeria... does he remember?”

  I was clinging to my chest, struggling to steady my breathing as my heart raced wildly, pounding like a drum against my ribcage. The ancient stone walls of the hallway felt cold, pressing in around me. I leaned back, closing my eyes, fighting to calm the storm within.

  Footsteps echoed behind me, swift and concerned. “Einar!” Rowan’s voice cut through the haze. He came into view, his messy hair falling over worried eyes. “What happened? Why did you leave us behind like that?”

  I opened my mouth but no words came. How could I explain it? That strange feeling, the overwhelming sense of familiarity, the name that had slipped from my lips so naturally. I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper, “I... I don’t know. She reminds me of someone.”

  Alina joined us, her auburn hair swaying as she approached, her face creased with concern. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her touch warm and grounding. “Einar... you’ll be taking her classes from now on. She’s our House Head, for god's sake.” Her eyes softened, searching my face for answers. “You can’t behave like that each time. People… will notice.”

  I looked away, guilt coiling in my chest. She was right. My reaction had been reckless, even foolish. But that pull, that inexplicable connection... how could I ignore it? How could I pretend it meant nothing when it felt like everything?

  Rowan’s lips curled into a mischievous grin, the tension in his eyes easing. “And here I thought you were having a crush on her.” He wiggled his eyebrows, his usual playful self returning. “Can’t blame you for that. She’s...” His voice trailed off, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Well... you know... beautiful and young.”

  I scoffed, shoving him lightly. “Piss off. It’s nothing like that.” But the heat rising to my face betrayed me. It wasn’t that... was it? It was something deeper, like my very being is reacting to her. Like what those priests of Laethos would say, ‘My soul is guided towards her’ something like this.

  Alina rolled her eyes, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “You looked like you have been affected by her charm spell or something. Won’t blame you there… she is pleasing for eyes even for me.”

  Rowan tapped on my shoulder. “Oh! And here I thought only we were charmed by her, but it affects the ladies too.”

  Alina chuckles. “Come on. We’re already late for lunch. Everyone’s probably waiting for us.”

  Rowan’s grin widened. “Can’t say about everyone, but Lucas is definitely enjoying himself without us. Probably boasting about his ‘pureblooded’ spellcasting.”

  I felt the tension ease, a small chuckle escaping me. “You’re not wrong there.”

  Rowan let out an exaggerated sigh. “Guess I’ll have to fix that.”

  Alina’s laughter chimed, light and carefree, washing away the last remnants of tension. “Let’s not keep him waiting. Come on, Einar.” She tugged at my sleeve, her eyes bright.

  I let myself be pulled along, forcing my legs to move, my chest still tight. I looked back at the hallway leading to the classroom, half-expecting to see her standing there, watching me with those hauntingly familiar eyes.

  But the corridor was empty, shadows pooling along the cold stone walls.

  I turned away, my heart heavy, my mind swirling with questions. The echoes of my footsteps faded as we made our way to the great hall, but the memory of her voice lingered, a whisper at the edge of my mind, refusing to let go.