The morning alarm at Aethros Academy was a gentle chime that gradually increased in volume, designed by some thoughtful administrator to ease students into wakefulness rather than jarring them awake. It was a lovely, civilized way to start the day.
Unless you lived in the F-rank dormitories, where the alarm was apparently a rusty bell that sounded like it was being attacked by an angry goose.
"CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!"
Kai shot upright in his narrow bed, hair sticking up in twelve different directions. "Is the Academy under attack?"
"No," West groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. "That's just our gentle morning wake-up call."
"CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!"
"I think the bell is broken," Kai said, stumbling toward the tiny mirror mounted on their wall. "Either that, or F-ranks are supposed to wake up angry."
Through their ground-level window, West could see perfectly polished shoes walking past—A-rank students heading to breakfast with the unhurried confidence of people who knew good food would be waiting for them.
"Come on!" Kai had somehow managed to make his uniform look presentable despite the fact that it appeared to have been designed by someone who'd never actually seen a human body. "First day of classes! This is going to be amazing!"
West dragged himself out of bed, noting that his uniform looked slightly less like a potato sack than Kai's, though not by much. "You do remember that we're supposed to be terrible at magic, right?"
"Of course! I've been practicing my incompetence all morning!" To demonstrate, Kai attempted to comb his hair and somehow managed to get the comb stuck. "See? Natural F-rank behavior!"
"That's... actually pretty convincing."
They made their way to the dining hall, joining the stream of gray-uniformed F-rank students trudging toward breakfast like prisoners heading to work detail. The contrast with the higher-ranked students was stark—where A-ranks glided and B-ranks strode, F-ranks shuffled.
"Morning, Sarah! Morning, Marcus!" Kai called cheerfully as they reached the F-rank tables.
Sarah looked up from what appeared to be lukewarm porridge and managed a small smile. "Hi, Kai. Hi, West."
Marcus grunted something that might have been a greeting while poking suspiciously at his breakfast. "I think they gave us yesterday's leftovers again."
"Recycled nutrition!" Kai declared, settling onto the wobbly bench with enthusiasm that made it creak alarmingly. "Very environmentally conscious!"
"That's one way to look at it," Sarah said, though she seemed cheered by his optimism.
West surveyed their breakfast options with professional interest. Lumpy porridge, stale bread, what might generously be called fruit if you squinted at it from the right angle, and a beverage that was either very weak tea or very strong water.
Meanwhile, at the A-rank tables, he could see perfectly prepared meals being served on actual china, with fresh fruit, pastries that were still steaming, and beverages that actually had identifiable colors.
"So what's everyone's first class?" Kai asked, apparently genuinely excited about the prospect of failing at magic.
"Remedial Magical Theory with Professor Wimple," Marcus said gloomily. "She makes Professor Grimwald look like a master teacher."
"Basic Levitation with Master Hendricks," Sarah added. "I heard he makes you practice on feathers until you can lift them without setting them on fire."
"Feather levitation!" Kai's eyes lit up. "That sounds adorable! Like teaching magic to baby birds!"
The other F-ranks stared at him with expressions ranging from admiration to concern for his mental health.
"What about you two?" Sarah asked.
West checked their schedule. "Practical Magic Applications with Professor Blackstone."
A collective wince went around the table.
"Blackstone?" Marcus looked genuinely sympathetic. "Oh man. You guys are doomed."
"Why? Is he mean?" Kai asked, still working on extracting his comb from his hair.
"He's... intense," Sarah explained carefully. "He used to teach A-rank combat magic before they moved him to F-rank practical applications. Rumor is he requested the transfer because he thought he could 'fix' us."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Kai said.
"His idea of fixing involves a lot of shouting and exploding practice targets," Marcus added. "Last semester, he made a kid cry just by looking at his levitation attempt."
"Well," West said diplomatically, "I'm sure he means well."
"Famous last words," muttered a girl from the end of the table.
As they finished their questionable breakfast, the morning rush began in earnest. Higher-ranked students swept past their section with the casual arrogance of people who belonged, while F-ranks gathered their supplies with the resigned determination of soldiers heading into battle.
"Come on, West!" Kai bounced up from the table, having finally freed his comb. "Time to go fail spectacularly at practical magic!"
"I can hardly wait," West replied dryly.
They followed the stream of students toward the classroom wings, and West found himself cataloging the Academy's layout with professional thoroughness. Emergency exits, defensive positions, magical focal points, potential choke points—old habits from his real training.
The Practical Magic classroom was located in what was clearly the Academy's equivalent of the blast-resistant wing. Scorch marks decorated the walls, the floors showed signs of repeated repair work, and there was a faint smell in the air that suggested something had been on fire recently.
"Cheerful," West muttered.
"Very authentic learning environment!" Kai agreed, apparently meaning it.
They found seats near the back—partly to maintain their F-rank status and partly because West's tactical instincts suggested that the back of the room would offer the best protection if things went sideways.
Professor Blackstone entered the room like a force of nature contained in human form. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair and the kind of bearing that suggested extensive military experience. His robes were practical rather than decorative, and he carried a staff that looked like it had seen actual combat use.
"Right," he said, his voice carrying easily through the room without any magical amplification. "I see we have some new faces this semester. Transfer students, I assume?"
His gaze found Kai and West immediately. Of course.
"Yes sir!" Kai raised his hand enthusiastically. "Kai Ashworth and Westfield Lumina, reporting for practical magic duty!"
Several students winced at Kai's enthusiasm. Professor Blackstone's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline.
"Enthusiasm," he said slowly, as if encountering a completely alien concept. "How... refreshing."
West had the distinct feeling they were about to be made examples of.
"Well then, Mr. Ashworth, since you're so eager, perhaps you'd like to demonstrate your current skill level? Simple levitation spell—let's see what you can do with this."
Professor Blackstone conjured a feather—not just any feather, but a perfect white swan feather that practically glowed with potential energy. It settled gently on the desk in front of Kai.
The classroom fell silent. This was apparently the Professor's standard opening gambit—humiliate the new students immediately to establish dominance and set expectations.
Kai looked at the feather with the expression of someone who'd just been handed a live dragon.
"Um," he said, "how exactly does one... levitate... things?"
"Focus your magical energy," Professor Blackstone said with the patience of someone who'd had this conversation a thousand times before. "Visualize the feather rising. Channel your will through your staff and direct it toward the target."
"Right!" Kai nodded eagerly, pulling out his practice wand—a basic wooden stick that looked like it had been carved by a drunk beaver. "Focus, visualize, channel, direct. Got it!"
He pointed the wand at the feather with intense concentration.
Nothing happened.
"Are you channeling magical energy, Mr. Ashworth?" Professor Blackstone asked.
"I think so?" Kai squinted harder at the feather. "It's hard to tell. Magic doesn't really make noise, does it?"
"Try again. This time, really focus on pushing your magical energy into the wand."
West watched his friend prepare for what was essentially an Academy Award-worthy performance. Kai closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pointed his wand at the feather with theatrical concentration.
The feather twitched.
"Oh!" Kai's eyes snapped open. "Did you see that? It moved!"
"Barely," Professor Blackstone said, though he looked slightly less pessimistic than before. "Try to lift it properly this time."
Kai nodded seriously and tried again. This time, the feather rose about an inch before wobbling and falling back down.
"Better," the Professor admitted grudgingly. "Though your control needs significant work. The feather shouldn't be wobbling like a drunk butterfly."
"Drunk butterfly," Kai repeated thoughtfully. "That's actually a pretty accurate description of my magic in general."
Several students snickered, and even Professor Blackstone's mouth twitched slightly.
"Mr. Lumina," the Professor turned to West. "Your turn."
West approached his own feather with carefully calculated reluctance. He needed to be better than Kai—but not too much better. Good enough to avoid complete humiliation, not good enough to raise suspicions.
He pointed his wand at the feather and channeled approximately 0.0001% of his actual ability into a basic levitation spell.
The feather rose smoothly to about shoulder height, hovered there for a few seconds, then gently settled back down.
"Adequate," Professor Blackstone said, which from his tone sounded like high praise. "Though your energy output was inconsistent. The feather wobbled twice during the ascent."
West had actually wobbled it on purpose, but he just nodded seriously. "I'll work on that, sir."
"See that you do." Professor Blackstone turned back to the class. "Now, for the rest of you—let's see what kind of disasters we're working with this semester."
What followed was a comprehensive demonstration of why these students were ranked F. Sarah managed to set her feather on fire ("At least it was floating while it burned," she said hopefully). Marcus launched his feather so hard it embedded in the ceiling ("I was visualizing really hard," he explained). Another student somehow turned his feather into what appeared to be a small, confused chicken.
"How," Professor Blackstone asked the universe in general, "does one accidentally transfigure a feather into poultry during a levitation exercise?"
"I was thinking about lunch?" the student offered weakly.
Through it all, West noticed something interesting. Despite his reputation for being harsh, Professor Blackstone wasn't actually cruel to the students. Frustrated, yes. Demanding, absolutely. But he offered constructive criticism, demonstrated proper technique, and showed remarkable patience with even the most spectacular failures.
"Mr. Ashworth," Professor Blackstone said near the end of class, "your levitation showed improvement during the session. With practice, you might actually achieve consistent results."
"Really?" Kai lit up like someone had just told him he'd won a lottery. "That's amazing! Thank you, Professor!"
"Don't let it go to your head," the Professor warned, but his tone was less stern than it had been. "You still have a long way to go."
"I know! But it's progress, right? Yesterday I couldn't levitate anything, and today I made a feather wobble like a drunk butterfly! Tomorrow maybe it'll wobble like a slightly less drunk butterfly!"
Professor Blackstone stared at him for a long moment, then did something remarkable.
He smiled.
It was a small smile, barely visible, but it was definitely there.
"Class dismissed," he announced. "Practice your levitation exercises tonight. And for the love of all that's magical, someone please figure out how to turn that chicken back into a feather."
As they filed out of the classroom, West heard several students discussing the session with more enthusiasm than he'd expected.
"Did you see how patient he was when Sarah set her third feather on fire?" one was saying.
"And he actually helped Marcus aim instead of just telling him he was doing it wrong," another added.
"I think he might actually want us to succeed," Sarah said wonderingly.
Kai fell into step beside West as they headed toward their next class. "See? I told you Professor Blackstone seemed nice!"
"Nice might be overstating it," West replied. "But you're right—he definitely cares about teaching."
"Everyone deserves to have someone believe in them," Kai said simply.
Before West could respond, a commotion erupted ahead of them in the hallway. Students were pressed against the walls, creating a clear path down the center of the corridor. The cause became apparent quickly—Aria Blackthorn was walking toward them, her ice-blue uniform pristine, her silver hair catching the magical light from overhead crystals.
She moved with the kind of fluid grace that suggested extensive combat training, and there was something in her bearing that made other students instinctively step aside. This wasn't just social deference—this was recognition of genuine power.
"Wow," Kai breathed, apparently forgetting to maintain his cover for a moment. "She's incredible."
Aria was almost level with them when disaster struck.
Marcus, hurrying to get out of the way like everyone else, tripped over his own feet and went sprawling directly into her path. His bag spilled open, sending books and practice materials scattering across the floor.
The hallway fell dead silent.
Aria stopped, looking down at the scattered mess with an expression that could have frozen lava. Marcus scrambled frantically to collect his things, his face burning with embarrassment.
"Sorry, sorry, so sorry!" he babbled, clearly terrified. "I didn't mean—I'll move—just give me one second—"
"Pathetic," someone whispered from the crowd.
That's when Kai moved.
Before West could stop him, Kai had stepped forward and was kneeling beside Marcus, helping gather the scattered books.
"Hey, don't worry about it," Kai said cheerfully, as if they weren't currently blocking the path of the Academy's most intimidating student. "Happens to everyone! I trip over my own feet at least three times a day!"
The hallway somehow became even quieter.
Aria's ice-blue gaze shifted to Kai, and West felt his protective instincts spike. If she hurt his friend—cover or no cover—things were going to get very complicated very quickly.
"You're the F-rank transfer student," Aria said. It wasn't a question.
"Guilty as charged!" Kai grinned up at her while helping Marcus to his feet. "Kai Ashworth, professional disaster and part-time feather wobbler!"
Something flickered across Aria's face—surprise, maybe, at being addressed so casually.
"You're blocking my path," she said coolly.
"Oh! Right, sorry!" Kai quickly gathered the last of Marcus's things and handed them over. "There you go, Marcus. All set!"
He stepped aside, still smiling, apparently completely unbothered by the fact that he'd just delayed the Academy's top-ranked student.
Aria walked past without another word, but West caught her glancing back once before she disappeared around the corner.
"Dude," Marcus whispered, staring at Kai like he'd just seen someone pet a dragon. "You just... you talked to Aria Blackthorn. Like she was a normal person."
"She is a normal person," Kai pointed out reasonably. "Just a really powerful, intimidating normal person who could probably turn us all into ice sculptures."
"Most people can't even make eye contact with her," Sarah said, having appeared beside them. "She's... kind of scary."
"She seemed fine to me," Kai shrugged. "Maybe a little serious, but that's not necessarily bad."
West watched his friend's expression carefully. There was something there—not quite admiration, but definitely interest. And that, West realized with growing concern, could be a problem.
Their cover required them to be beneath notice. Kai being kind to a fellow F-rank was one thing—that fit their personas perfectly. But showing no fear of Aria Blackthorn? That was the kind of behavior that might make people start asking questions.
"Come on," West said, steering Kai toward their next class. "We're going to be late for Advanced Incompetence with Professor Disaster."
"That's not a real class name," Kai protested.
"Are you sure? Because it sounds exactly like something this Academy would have."
As they walked away, West heard other students still discussing what had just happened.
"Did you see how she looked at him?"
"Like she was trying to figure out if he was brave or just stupid."
"Definitely stupid. Nobody talks to Aria Blackthorn like that."
West hoped they were right. Because if Aria started paying attention to Kai—really paying attention—their carefully constructed cover might not survive the scrutiny.
And judging by the thoughtful expression on his best friend's face, that was exactly what Kai was hoping would happen.
"She has kind eyes," Kai said quietly as they walked.
"What?"
"Aria. Behind all that ice and intimidation, she has kind eyes. Like she's protecting something soft underneath."
West felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. "Kai..."
"What? I'm just making an observation!"
"That observation is going to get us in trouble."
"How is noticing that someone has kind eyes going to get us in trouble?"
Because, West thought but didn't say, you're already falling for her, and she's supposed to be completely out of our league.
Instead, he just sighed and hoped that Kai's famous optimism wouldn't get them both exposed before they'd even finished their first week.
Though knowing Kai, that might be hoping for too much.
"Come on," West said, resigned to whatever chaos his best friend was about to unleash on their carefully planned mission. "Let's go fail at some more magic."
"Best idea I've heard all day!" Kai agreed cheerfully.
And despite everything, West found himself smiling. Because whatever else happened, life with Kai was never boring.
Even when—especially when—it was supposed to be.