The morning light, a soft, diffused glow filtering through the sturdy cliff walls, roused me. My eyes fluttered open to the sight of Selyra, her beautiful white hair fanned out against the pillow, her serene face nestled against my chest. She looked utterly peaceful in sleep, and her body, still warm and soft against mine, was a delightful reminder of the night we'd shared. She's so beautiful, I thought, a quiet awe settling over me.
"Morning," I whispered, gently.
Her eyes fluttered open, revealing their pale blue depth. She looked up at me, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Morning, Void Prince," she whispered back, her voice husky from sleep. She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss against my lips.
"I need to get back to my room before anyone notices," I told her, the reality of the academy's strictures setting in.
She simply smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes, and let me go. I quickly dressed, gathering my thoughts, and made my way to the very door through which I had entered her room.
Once I was back in my own space, a faint, familiar aroma of ashes and rock comforting me, I turned back to the wall. The door to Selyra's room, which had manifested from my desire, had vanished, leaving behind seamless, unblemished stone. Of course, I thought, a wry smile playing on my lips. The room shifts with desire.
Then, a wave of self-recrimination washed over me. I imagined my grandfather's stern face, scolding me. I slept with my senior, on my very first day! "I'm screwed," I mumbled to myself, half-amused, half-dismayed.
Just as I finished my internal monologue, a loud knock echoed from my door. A single knock, quickly followed by a powerful gust of wind, and then, with a splintering crack, my sturdy wooden door burst inward, ripped clean off its hinges.
Standing in the doorway, a wide, cheerful grin on his face, was Yue Galethorn. "Oi! Morning, Ven!" he boomed, completely unfazed by the destruction he'd just wrought. "You woke up early!" He then gestured towards the hall, his purple robe fluttering. "We have a Dolorian tradition here. Everyone always has breakfast together in the dining hall, every single time, unless you're not in the dorm. So, see you at the dining hall!" With that, he turned and strode off, whistling, leaving me staring at my now-broken door.
I stared at my broken door, a gaping maw where solid wood once stood. Yue's casual disregard for property damage, especially my door, was both bewildering and strangely endearing. There was no point in trying to fix it now; the academy's repair staff would probably handle it later. With a shrug, I left my room and headed towards the dining hall.
The Dolorian dining hall was as impressive as the main common area, a cavernous space carved directly from the living rock, yet surprisingly bright and airy. A long, sturdy table hewn from dark, polished wood, gleamed under the soft light, laden with various breakfast foods that steamed invitingly. Sunlight streamed in from cleverly concealed vents high up on the cliff face, casting warm, shifting patterns across the stone floor. The atmosphere was a bustling hum of quiet conversation and the clinking of cutlery. Yue was already there, a whirlwind of motion, his plate already piled precariously high with a mountain of crispy bacon and fluffy pancakes, a testament to his boundless energy. I also saw Gianna and Yor at the table, Gianna a beacon of warmth, already chatting animatedly with someone I couldn't quite see, her laughter light and melodic. Beside her, Yor sat with her usual quiet grace, sipping from a mug of steaming tea, her gaze observant and calm. Along with Henry, who was, predictably, keeping to himself, hunched over a bowl of oatmeal, his expression a permanent scowl that seemed to ward off any attempts at conversation.
"Morning, Gianna, Yor," I greeted them, then nodded towards Henry.
Gianna smiled warmly. "Morning, Venator! How was your sleep?"
"Good, yeah, pretty good," I replied, trying to keep a straight face, a hint of last night's memories still lingering. Yor merely nodded in acknowledgment. Henry, as usual, simply stared at his plate, clearly not wanting to be bothered.
"Where's Jove?" I asked Gianna, noticing his absence.
Just then, a cacophony of frantic footsteps and a rising whine of indignation preceded a blur of motion that slammed into the dining hall. It was Jove, looking like he'd wrestled a particularly stubborn bedsheet and lost, his hair sticking up at odd angles, one sock half-off. "Ugh, I got lost in the dorm!" he groaned, his voice echoing with theatrical despair as he threw his hands up in such exasperation that he nearly smacked Henry in the face.
Henry, who had been meticulously arranging his oatmeal, froze mid-spoon, his scowl deepening into a look of profound, long-suffering agony, as if Jove's very existence was a personal affront. "Must you always make such a scene, Jove?" Henry grumbled, his voice a low, exasperated rumble.
Jove, however, merely grinned, completely unbothered. "What, Henry? You mean you don't enjoy a good dramatic entrance? Maybe you should try it sometime! Might loosen you up!"
Henry's eye twitched. "I'm perfectly 'loose,' thank you very much," he retorted, turning back to his oatmeal with an air of intense concentration, as if the very act of eating would shield him from Jove's chaos.
I, meanwhile, couldn't help but bite back a smile, already accustomed to the daily spectacle that was Jove's life.
A moment later, Selyra entered. Her luminous white hair, a cascade of pure moonlight, framed her face, and her pale blue eyes, bright and knowing, immediately found mine. Her light brown skin glowed softly in the morning light. She was dressed in the academy uniform: a crisp white button-down shirt that, pulled taut across her generous chest, strained slightly against the fabric, emphasizing the alluring curve of her full breasts. A perfectly knotted tie completed the top, while her skirt, ending just above her knee, hinted at the elegant curve of her hips and the alluring swell of her backside, all contributing to her striking hourglass figure. Over this, she wore the Dolorian robe, open and flowing.
She walked over, her gaze never leaving me, and instead of merely taking the seat directly next to me, she almost slid into it, pressing her side firmly against mine. Then, with an utterly casual possessiveness, she not only grabbed my arm and laid her head on my shoulder, but nestled even closer, her fingers lacing through mine and her thumb stroking the back of my hand. It was a public display of affection that sent a jolt through me, a clear, undeniable declaration of ownership for all to see.
Thoden Bonnardson, the tense Drakarian senior, arrived then. His broad shoulders, honed by years of rigorous training, filled the doorway, and his muscular frame, typical of his Drakarian heritage, moved with an almost rigid precision. His face was as straight as ever, a granite mask of discipline with sharp, unyielding features, no change in expression. He simply took a seat, his posture ramrod straight, completely ignored the unfolding scene, his gaze fixed on the breakfast spread as if it were a tactical map, and began to eat with methodical, almost robotic movements.
Yue, however, noticed. He looked at Selyra and me, a huge, almost gleeful teasing grin spreading across his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, our Selyra!" he exclaimed, his laughter booming, echoing slightly. "How did you turn her like that, Ven? She's probably rejected a hundred marriage proposals, ha-ha-ha! And now look at her, clinging to you! Who knew our ice queen had such a soft spot, eh?" Selyra didn't seem to care about Yue's teasing. She just continued to hug my arm, and to my surprise, even began feeding me small pieces of food from her plate. I was completely confused by the situation.
Then, Yue, his earlier boisterousness softening into something genuinely earnest, moved around the table. He didn't toss the letters; instead, he carefully placed a thick, cream-colored envelope beside each of us first-years. The light, easy chatter of the dining hall seemed to quiet, a respectful hush falling as anticipation rippled through the air. "As part of another Dolorian tradition," he announced, his voice losing its teasing edge and filling with a quiet warmth that resonated with genuine care, "every first-year will get a letter from their family back home on their first day in this dorm. We asked them personally to write for you guys so you can settle in well." His gaze swept over each of us, a shared understanding passing between him and the new students, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort and connection this gesture offered.
I looked down at the envelope placed before me. My name, "Venator Sigurdsoon," was written across the front in a familiar, elegant script, and my heart gave a strange lurch, a sudden, unexpected pang of longing. A letter from home. From my mother. I carefully picked up the envelope, my fingers tracing the familiar contours of the paper, the thick, quality stock feeling solid and real in my hand. Selyra, still nestled against me, looked up, her pale blue eyes curious, her head tilted slightly as if trying to read my expression. Gianna and Yor were already opening their letters, their faces alight with a mix of eagerness and nostalgia, soft smiles gracing their lips as they absorbed words from loved ones. Even Henry had paused his methodical oatmeal consumption, a flicker of something unreadable in his usually stoic gaze as he stared at his own envelope, a rare moment of vulnerability in his guarded demeanor. Jove, of course, had already torn his open and was loudly proclaiming something about his sister's terrible handwriting, his usual boisterousness undimmed even by sentiment.
I carefully broke the seal, the faint scent of parchment and something subtly floral, a scent I vaguely associated with my mother, wafting up. Unfolding the single sheet, I began to read, my eyes scanning the familiar loops and flourishes of her handwriting. The words blurred for a moment, then sharpened, pulling me back to the quiet, sun-drenched study of our home, miles and a world away.
The familiar voice seemed to echo in my mind – her precise, slightly exasperated tone, as if she were standing right beside me, wagging a finger. And indeed, the first lines were a classic mother's scolding, as if she knew exactly what I'd been up to:
My Dearest Ven,
I trust you have not, on your very first day at the academy, succumbed to any... indiscretions? Particularly with any young ladies, Iskiran or otherwise? Your father and I expect you to focus on your studies, not on distractions.
A flush crept up my neck, and I couldn't help but let out a silent, nervous laugh. Maybe mother's instinct is never wrong, I thought, a wave of disbelief mixed with grudging admiration washing over me. How could she possibly know? I continued reading, the words shifting from stern admonition to gentle reassurance:
On a more serious note, we are all well here, though your father and grandfather miss you dearly. The house feels a little too quiet without your usual ruckus. Gustav sends his regards, and insists I add: "Don't forget to train."
We are so proud of you, my son. Make us proud, but most importantly, be safe and be true to yourself.
With all our love,Your Mother
I could almost picture Gustav's stern face, a faint smile playing on his lips as he wrote that last line. I just smiled as I read the letter, a warmth spreading through my chest, a tangible connection to the home I had left behind.
"Alright, first-years!" Yue boomed, his voice cutting through the lingering warmth of my mother's words, bringing me sharply back to the bustling dining hall. "Good news! You've got no classes today." He grinned, a wide, infectious smile. "Today, I'll be giving you a tour of the academy."
Selyra's pale blue eyes lit up, and a bright smile began to bloom on her lips, presumably eager to join our excursion. But Yue looked at her, then shook his head playfully, a finger wagging. "No, you can't go, Selyra. You have to go to class, and Thoden too. Only the prefect assigned for the tour gets permission to skip class today."
Selyra's smile instantly dissolved into an adorable pout, her lower lip pushing out slightly, her cheeks puffing out just a little, making her look like a disgruntled, beautiful child. "No fair!" she whined, a soft, aggrieved sound, as she reluctantly pushed off my shoulder. But even as she did, her other hand found my waist, her fingers subtly digging in, a silent protest. She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear, whispering conspiratorially, "Meet me tonight at my room, okay?" With a quick, lingering glance that promised much more than just a meeting, she then stood up and headed out of the dining hall with Thoden, who, as usual, moved with his rigid, disciplined stride, presumably making their way to their third-year classes.
We, the remaining first-years, followed Yue out of the dorm, the cool morning air of the academy grounds a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dining hall, and embarked on a grand campus tour. Yue, striding ahead with the boundless energy of a seasoned guide, his chest puffed out slightly with pride, occasionally glancing back to make sure we were all keeping up.
Our first stop was the classrooms, vast, tiered lecture halls and smaller, intimate seminar rooms, still mostly empty at this early hour. The air here was hushed, carrying only the faint scent of polished wood and old parchment. "And these, my dear first-years," Yue announced, spreading his arms wide as if to encompass the entire wing, "are the hallowed halls where knowledge is forged! From basic spellcasting to advanced theoretical physics, it all happens here!" Jove immediately gravitated towards the largest lecture hall, his eyes wide with theatrical ambition. "Imagine it, Ven!" he whispered, nudging me. "Me, up there, delivering a rousing speech about... about something incredibly heroic!" Henry, however, merely gave a dismissive sniff, his arms crossed. "More like where dreams go to die under mountains of homework," he muttered, loud enough for us to hear. Gianna, unfazed by Henry's cynicism, peered into each room with genuine interest, her head tilted, a soft smile on her lips. "It looks so grand," she murmured, "I can't wait to learn here." Yor, as always, observed everything silently, her eyes taking in every detail, from the intricate carvings on the lecterns to the worn spots on the floor, storing it all away with quiet efficiency. Yue, meanwhile, beamed at Gianna's enthusiasm, then shot a mock-glare at Henry. "Don't listen to him, Gianna! This is where you'll become legends! And speaking of legends..."
This was followed by the labs, a symphony of quiet whirs, soft clinks, and the occasional gentle pop. The air here was thick with the sharp, intriguing scent of various chemical concoctions, a testament to the cutting-edge research conducted here. Glassware gleamed on benches, and strange, arcane devices hummed with unseen energy. "And behold!" Yue declared, gesturing dramatically towards a Kaynari student meticulously swirling a glowing blue liquid in a flask. "The heart of innovation! Our Kaynari brethren are masters of elemental manipulation and alchemy!" Jove, ever the curious one, tried to peek over the student's shoulder, his head bobbing with excitement. "What's that one for? Is it a potion for super strength? Or maybe invisibility?" he whispered loudly, earning a mild glare from the focused student. Henry muttered something under his breath about "unnecessary theatrics and potential explosions." Gianna watched with wide-eyed wonder, her hand rising to cover her mouth in awe. "Oh, look!" she gasped, "That one just changed color! How do they do that?" Yor, on the other hand, seemed less interested in the spectacle and more in the underlying principles, her gaze fixed on the complex diagrams on a nearby blackboard, a faint, almost imperceptible nod of approval on her face. Yue, with a knowing smirk, pointed out a particularly complex piece of equipment, a series of interconnected crystal tubes that pulsed with faint light, clearly enjoying our bewildered expressions. "That, my friends, is a basic Mana Condenser. Don't worry, you'll get to play with one of those in your second year!"
Next, we went to the serene expanse of the lake, its surface shimmering under the morning sun, reflecting the clear blue sky. A gentle breeze ruffled the water, carrying the faint scent of fresh water and distant greenery. And there, finally, I saw the Armania Dorm standing majestically in the middle of it, a vision of pristine white stone and graceful arches, connected to the shore by a single, elegant bridge. Its elegant, almost ethereal architecture truly suited the Iskiran aesthetic, a stark contrast to the rugged, carved-out nature of our own Dolorian Dorm. Maybe the Merlin and Armanian dorms have a harsher entry trial than ours, I mused, still thinking about the terrifying encounter with the groundwolves. Jove, looking at the pristine dorm, suddenly clutched his chest dramatically. "They probably just had tea and biscuits! No groundwolves! The injustice!" he wailed, his voice rising to a mock-lament. "We had to fight for our right to sleep in a bed! They just got handed a key!" Henry, standing beside him, let out a tired sigh. "Some of us prefer not to wrestle overgrown rodents for a room, Jove," he deadpanned, his gaze flat and unimpressed. Gianna, however, simply gazed at the beautiful structure with admiration, a dreamy look in her eyes. "It's so beautiful," she whispered, "like something out of a fairy tale." Yor, as ever, remained composed, though a faint curve of her lips suggested she found Jove's antics amusing, a rare glimpse of her lighter side. Yue clapped Jove on the shoulder. "Every dorm has its own traditions, Jove. Ours just happen to build character... very quickly!" he said with a wink, then led us onward.
As we walked towards the sprawling training grounds, a vast expanse of manicured fields and specialized obstacle courses, the air filled with the distant thud of practice blows and the shouts of students. I spotted a group from Armania Dorm also on a tour, their crisp white robes a stark contrast to our darker Dolorian ones. I immediately saw my cousin, Enchidna, her vibrant red hair a beacon even from a distance, dressed in her crisp white robe adorned with the proud lion crest. The pristine white button-down shirt, just like Selyra's, was pulled taut across her undeniably generous chest, the fabric straining visibly, and I half-expected a button to pop at any moment. Her firm, ample breasts seemed barely contained, a clear inheritance from Aunt Allana, and the flowing white robe only hinted at the athletic build beneath.Indeed, she was well-suited for Armania, all grace and power, I thought, a familiar cousinly protectiveness stirring. And if anyone tried to get her, they'd have to deal with me first. My face broke into a wide smile. I waved, and her face broke into a wide, joyous smile in return, her eyes sparkling with a familiar, mischievous glint. She broke into a run, her usual boundless energy propelling her across the grass, rushing over to me.
"Hi!" she exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement, pulling me into a quick, tight hug that nearly knocked the wind out of me.
"How was the trial for Armania Dorm?" I asked, pulling back slightly, genuinely curious about their initiation process.
She looked confused for a moment, her brow furrowing. "What trial?" Then, a light dawned in her eyes, and she let out a small laugh, a sound of pure, unburdened amusement. "Oh, you mean to get into the dorm? No, we just had a lavish welcoming feast with our prefects and third-years in the grand dining hall, then they gave us a leisurely tour of the grounds, showed us our rooms, and even had a small talent show! That's all. Why do you ask?"
"Because," I said, a wry grin spreading across my face, the memory of our ordeal still fresh and frankly, still a little unbelievable, "the Dolorian Dorm is pure madness!" I then recounted our chaotic initiation, the groundwolves, the hidden door, the sheer absurdity of it all. "They forced us to fight groundwolves before we even entered the dorm, and they didn't even tell us where the actual door was!"
Enchidna burst out laughing, a bright, clear sound that drew glances from her group and even Yue and my own dorm mates. "That sounds like absolute fun! And very Dolorian!" she declared, her eyes dancing with delight at the sheer chaos of it all, a spark of genuine envy perhaps, that she'd missed such an exciting entry. "I wish I'd been there! A real challenge, not just tea and polite conversation!"
Just then, I felt a familiar presence. The cool, almost icy aura that accompanied Esutora, the Iskiran girl who had winked at me during the sorting, drew closer, a subtle chill in the air that was both refreshing and a little unnerving. Some other Armania students, equally pristine in their white robes, had joined us as well, their conversations a soft murmur, their curiosity piqued by Enchidna's boisterous laughter.
Esutora stepped forward, her movements fluid and confident. Her hair, a striking shade of pure white, was pulled back into a sleek, high ponytail that swished gently with her steps, contrasting sharply with her skin, which was as pale and smooth as freshly fallen snow. Her pale blue eyes, narrow and slightly almond-shaped, reminiscent of a delicate brushstroke, held a playful glint, a hint of mischief that reminded me of Selyra, but with a deeper, more veiled quality. Her figure was slender and athletic, with a graceful litheness; her breasts, though not as overtly full as Enchidna's or Selyra's, had a firm, subtle curve that looked incredibly soft beneath the fabric. She addressed Enchidna, a soft, almost indulgent smile on her lips. "Enchidna, little lioness, will you introduce me to your Drakarian friend here?" she asked, her voice smooth and melodic, a subtle, almost purring quality to it that seemed to wrap around the words, carrying a hint of knowing amusement.
Enchidna, ever excited to connect people, immediately obliged, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "Oh, yeah! This is my cousin, Venator Sigurdsoon! He's got the rare bind of Void, just like King Sigurd!" she announced proudly, her voice a little too loud, oblivious to the subtle shift in Esutora's expression, which remained perfectly composed.
Then, Enchidna turned to me, a wide grin on her face. "And Ven, this is Esutora from Iskaria. She's my roommate!"
"Nice to meet you," I said, trying to be polite, though a faint unease prickled at the back of my neck as Esutora's gaze lingered, feeling less like a greeting and more like an appraisal.
Esutora's smile widened, that teasing glint unmistakable now, her eyes raking over me with an almost predatory interest. "Oh, Void Prince," she purred, the title rolling off her tongue with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring each syllable, hinting at secrets she already knew. "My honor to meet you. I've heard whispers of your arrival, and they do not do you justice." Her voice was a silken thread, and I felt a strange, almost magnetic pull, different from Selyra's warmth, but potent in its own way, leaving me wondering just what "whispers" she had heard.
As we chatted, an Armanian prefect, a stern-looking woman with a no-nonsense air, called their group to ask them back, signaling they were moving on. I saw Yannick, still with that smug look on his face, lingering in the back of their group, his striking blue hair gleaming in the sunlight. Peter Von Arthur walked diligently behind their prefect, his posture impeccable, and Yan Dolores walked casually beside Peter, all in their crisp white robes with the lion crest, their formation orderly and precise. Enchidna and Esutora waved goodbye to me, their smiles bright, promising to catch up later.
My gaze then landed on their prefect, a tall Aetherian woman with incredibly large, graceful wings that seemed to shimmer with an inner light, catching the sun like spun glass. She was stunningly beautiful, with the same striking blue hair as Yannick and King Seraph himself, a color that seemed to hum with power. Maybe she's royalty too, I thought, a strange sense of recognition stirring within me, a feeling deeper than just observing her beauty. But as I watched her, my heart began to beat fast, a frantic, insistent drum against my ribs, and to my surprise, my void seemed to react to her, a low, resonant thrumming deep within me, as if recognizing a long-lost part of itself, or a destiny suddenly laid bare. It wasn't the kind of simple, physical attraction I felt for beautiful women like Selyra or the other Iskirians; this was something far more intense, a different kind of pull, a profound, almost primal magnetic force that vibrated through my very core, demanding my attention, a feeling akin to finding a missing piece of my own soul.
"Yue," I asked, turning to my prefect, my voice lower and more strained than I intended, my eyes still drawn to the departing Aetherian. "Who is she?" He was an Aetherian too, and around the same year as her, so he would probably know her.
Yue looked at her, then back at me, his usual mischievous grin widening into a full-blown, knowing smirk that seemed to say, 'Ah, I see what's happening here.' "Oh, that's Seira Galegaard," he answered, his tone laced with amusement, clearly having noticed my sudden, intense fascination. Another royal, I thought, the realization of her lineage making her vibrant blue hair make even more sense, amplifying the strange pull I felt.
Then he added playfully, his voice dropping into a stage whisper, "You like her, don't you, Ven? Careful there, my friend! You know Selyra will kill you if she knows about this little crush!" He laughed, a hearty, booming sound that echoed across the training grounds, and we continued on our tour, leaving the Armanian group behind, their white robes fading into the distance.
Our tour continued, and our next stop was the library. "This is the biggest library in this world," Yue declared proudly, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. He wasn't exaggerating. Books seemed to float in mid-air, occasionally fluttering to a new shelf with a soft rustle of pages, and towering bookshelves stretched to the very high ceilings, forming endless labyrinthine aisles that seemed to disappear into shadow. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and quiet knowledge, a stark contrast to the lively training grounds we had just left.
Here, amidst the hushed reverence for knowledge, we encountered the Merlin Dorm first-years. I spotted Raika in her distinctive blue robe with the owl crest. Her hair, a striking shade of deep blue, fell straight and unmoving around her pale, almost ethereal face, and from her temples, a pair of slender, straight horns, the mark of her Drakarian heritage, emerged, contrasting with her otherwise lean, almost Aetherian-like figure. I waved my hand and said "Hi!" but she simply ignored me, her gaze fixed on something distant and unseen, still as silent and enigmatic as ever, as if she existed in a world entirely her own.
Then, a tall woman with magnificent, large wings that unfurled slightly with her movements, shimmering with an ethereal glow, and the same striking blue hair as Raika and Seira, walked directly towards me. She was clearly the Merlin prefect. Her blue hair, pulled back into a sleek, elegant ponytail, cascaded down her back, and her figure, while graceful and commanding, was lean and athletic, her uniform hinting at a subtle, firm curve to her chest. She smiled, a gentle but profound expression that held an ancient wisdom, her eyes, the same piercing blue as her hair, seeming to look through me, not at me, as if perceiving layers beyond the visible. She spoke directly to me, her voice soft yet resonating with an unexpected power, as if the words themselves carried weight, each syllable imbued with a quiet, unsettling certainty. "Accept your fate, Void Bearer." With that enigmatic statement, she turned and, with a fluid grace, led her first-years out of the library, disappearing into the labyrinth of shelves.
Was that Seira, the girl from Armania Dorm? I thought, confused, my mind trying desperately to reconcile the two images – the Armanian white robe and the Merlin blue. Why would she be wearing a Merlin robe? And what did she mean, "Accept your fate"?
Yue, noticing my confusion, came over, a thoughtful expression replacing his usual cheerfulness. "Oh, that's Seina Galegaard," he corrected me, his voice a little softer, as if sensing the weight of the encounter. "Seira's twin sister. We came here together, the three of us – me, Seina, and Seira – as representatives of the Aetherians." He paused, then chuckled, a short, dry sound. "She's... well, she's somehow weird. She likes to talk about the future to people she finds interesting. She's known as some kind of seer or something. I don't know, but she is weird. Maybe many Merlin dorm students are weird after all."
We looked at the Merlin dorm first-years as they left, a strange assortment of characters. "Yes, they are a bunch of weirdos," Jove piped up, throwing out jokes as he watched them with us, always ready with a quip. "One is Raika, a Drakarian with blue hair, the prefect is a seer, there's a timid pink-haired human girl, then there's battle-obsessed Oliver, an Aetherian, and last but not least, our first-year legend Dorrick – always thinking of a plan to destroy the world!" We all burst into laughter at Jove's outrageous description, especially of Dorrick, the sound echoing through the quiet library.
As the laughter died down, Yue simply nodded, his earlier seriousness returning. "Well, that concludes our grand tour for today, first-years. Time to head back to our dorm." With that, we turned and began the walk back to the Dolorian Dorm, my head spinning with the day's encounters, the surprising revelations, and the promise of the night.