POV: Cain

  Magic Theory wasn’t my favorite css. Or my least favorite. It just existed in that special limbo where my brain had to be on, but not enough to make me bleed. Unlike sword training with Luna, or combat drills, it didn’t require stamina — just memory, attention, and the ability to not fall asleep mid-lecture. Which, let’s be honest, was still a challenge.

  I slipped into my usual seat in the upper-middle section of the lecture hall. Luna followed as always, ciming the seat beside me with the kind of quiet grace that said “I’m here for violence if necessary.” She didn’t speak, but she didn’t have to — her presence was like storm pressure in physical form.

  I was halfway through a long sigh when something… odd happened.

  A soft rustle. A subtle shift of air.

  And then Elira appeared beside me.

  She didn’t say anything at first. Just carefully sat down, her arms wrapped around a book like it might shield her from divine judgment. Her blonde hair had been tied into a loose braid, and her uniform was neater than usual, though her sleeves were still rolled halfway up — habit, maybe. Or nerves.

  Then she looked up… and met Luna’s eyes.

  Oh no.

  Luna turned her head just slightly, her cold blue gaze falling onto Elira like moonlight through a frozen window. Calm. Unblinking. Assessing.

  Elira shivered.

  “G-Good morning, Lady Luna,” she said softly, voice as thin as mist. “Cain.”

  “‘Lady Luna,’” I repeated under my breath. “Wow. I don’t even get ‘Mister.’ Tragic.”

  Luna didn’t answer, but I could tell — barely — that she softened. A fraction. Which, by her standards, was equivalent to throwing someone a parade.

  I leaned toward Elira and whispered, “Don’t worry. She only gres like that when she’s deciding whether or not to adopt you or throw you into a hurricane.”

  She turned pink. “I-I didn’t mean to intrude. I just—this seat was free, and…”

  I smirked. “Rex. It’s fine. Besides, you’re safer here. She might vaporize someone who tries to kick you out.”

  Before Elira could answer, the atmosphere in the room shifted — subtly, but unmistakably.

  The door opened.

  Professor Magnus Wyrden strode in like he was born from academic storms and coffee-induced judgment.

  Tall. Grey-cloaked. Eyes sharp enough to critique your posture, handwriting, and existence in one gnce.

  He stepped to the front podium, arms crossed.

  “No greetings today,” he announced. “We’re skipping pleasantries.”

  A few students straightened. Some paled.

  “Today,” he continued, “you’re getting a surprise exam. Elemental spell structure. Magic circle alignment. Rune sequence correction.”

  Half the room groaned.

  I groaned internally.

  “You may form groups of two,” he added. “And before anyone tries to cheat — yes, your scores will be evaluated separately and together.”

  Then, his eyes flicked toward Luna.

  “Spirits and familiars are not permitted to assist. This is your theory, not theirs.”

  Luna didn’t flinch. She simply stood, silent, and moved back to the outer edge of the room.

  I looked around.

  Immediately, the nobles formed pairs with practiced speed, some already adjusting their chairs and preparing ink quills like they were going to war. Others gnced at me… then looked away. No surprise. My status as “border-bred halfblood who insulted a noble mid-duel” was apparently still in effect.

  Elira, beside me, had gone very still.

  So I turned to her.

  “Well,” I said casually, “I see a tragic ck of invitations coming our way. Want to team up?”

  She blinked. “M-Me?”

  “No, the ghost behind you. Yes, you.”

  She smiled a little. “I’d like that.”

  A few seats away, someone whispered something. I ignored it.

  The Test Begins

  Magnus handed out thick packets. Dozens of rune arrays, circle sequences, mana flow charts, and historical references about pre-continental rune systems.

  I stared at it like it was ancient math written in reverse.

  Elira, meanwhile, had gone stiff. I noticed her hands shaking slightly.

  “Hey,” I whispered. “You okay?”

  She bit her lip. “I… I get nervous during tests. I always forget things.”

  I tilted my head. “You literally healed me in a library without blinking.”

  “That’s different,” she said, shrinking into herself. “People weren’t watching.”

  Fair enough.

  Still, I had my own problems. I hadn’t exactly mastered theory. Luna taught me what mattered for survival, not what looked neat on a chalkboard. But I remembered enough — fragments from her nightly rants, moments where her disappointment burned a rune sequence into my skull.

  Especially that one look.

  The one she gave me when I was too slow to form a stable circle. That look that said: Are you failing on purpose, or should I call a priest?

  I wasn't going to let her give me that look again.

  So I started scribbling.

  I handled the rune identification and magical circle corrections. Elira took the energy flow sequences and incantation structures.

  But she was slow — nervous, second-guessing herself even when she was right. Her pen hovered, then backed off. She muttered to herself, cheeks red, hair falling into her face.

  Meanwhile, I worked fast, mostly on instinct. Remembering not what I read, but what Luna had drilled.

  Wind mages use open spirals, not closed. Fire glyphs should not be nested unless you want an explosion. Earth runes require grounding lines, or you end up sinking your spell — literally.

  By the time Professor Magnus called “Five minutes remaining,” we were barely on the st page.

  “I-I’m sorry,” Elira whispered. “I—I slowed us down.”

  I gnced at her. “You’re fine. Just finish the diagram. I’ll double-check the formu.”

  We made it. Barely. Turned in the paper just as the time expired.

  As we sat back, both exhaling, I looked over at Elira. Her head was bowed.

  “Hey,” I said. “You did fine.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  I leaned over, lowered my voice. “Next time, pretend everyone else is dead. That helps.”

  She looked at me, then — slowly — smiled.

  “I’ll try.”

  From across the room, I felt Luna’s eyes watching me. Still unreadable. But not disappointed.

  For now.