CHAPTER THREE: Gym Tension
After leaving the room, Seraphine adjusted her black jacket and followed the stream of students toward the central tower. Every corridor here smelled faintly of magic, ozone, candle smoke, and something sweet that reminded her of forbidden places. She wasn't in the mood to fight anyone.
Her welcome packet said her next class was Elemental Theory and Battle Application—a mouthful for what was essentially, "Here's how to throw magic at your enemies without blowing your own face off." Or gym.
She was halfway to the training wing when someone stepped into her path.
"Morning, roommate," Alaric said, falling into step beside her like they were friends. "You're late."
"Thanks for the concern, sunshine, but I'm exactly on time," she replied without looking at him.
He smirked. "Pretty sure you took the long route just to avoid walking with me."
"Wow. Perceptive and annoying. Must be a Lux thing."
They reached the training yard, a sprawling expanse of stone tiles, dueling rings, and magical barriers humming with energy. Students from every House milled around, stretching, conjuring sparks, showing off.
Seraphine caught more than a few curious stares. It wasn't just her red-black hair or Umbra uniform. It was the way her shadows curled lazily around her boots like cats, even when she wasn't trying.
Professor Halden, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running from jaw to temple, strode into the center ring. "All right, first-years. House placement's over. Time to see if you're worth the wards protecting this school."
A ripple of nervous laughter passed through the crowd. About two hundred students stood on the tiles—one hundred boys in a line facing one hundred girls.
"We'll start with paired sparring. Random assignments," Halden said, waving his hand. A golden glyph spun in the air, rearranging names.
It stopped.
Seraphine. Alaric.
Interesting, Vex drawled in her mind. You don't need to fight. I'll take care of it. Shall I take over?
Nah. I'll handle this.
The collective oooh from the watching students echoed. Leona beamed from ear to ear, while Isla glared daggers at Seraphine.
Alaric stepped into the ring first, rolling his shoulders like this was routine. She followed, her expression bored, though her magic coiled eagerly inside her.
"Don't hold back," he murmured.
"Don't cry when I win. And the wards should probably be on standby." She smirked.
His eyes narrowed.
Halden dropped his arm. "Begin!"
Alaric moved like light itself—blindingly fast, his blade of pure energy materializing in his hand. She twisted aside, shadows thickening around her like smoke. Two shadowy figures appeared at her sides, her summons.
They circled. His strikes were precise, testing her defenses. Her illusions danced around him, flickers of herself that vanished when struck. He slashed through shadows; she conjured more to take their place.
He lunged. She caught his blade on a shield of shadow and shoved, the impact sending a shockwave through the ring. The crowd gasped.
"You're better than I thought," he said through clenched teeth.
"Flattery won't save you, sunshine." Her smirk widened as she formed a ball of shadow between her hands.
Her chaos magic surged—too much, too fast. For a heartbeat, her control slipped. Gold-red light flared from her eyes. The air crackled with dangerous energy.
Alaric faltered. Not from fear—recognition.
She pressed forward, shadows snaking around his ankles. He countered with a burst of light that burned through them, forcing her back. The flare singed the edge of her jacket.
The duel might have spiraled into something far more dangerous if Halden hadn't barked: "Enough! I said sparring, not killing—or realm-shattering!"
The barrier flickered as they both lowered their weapons. Alaric's gaze lingered on her a second too long. Seraphine glanced at her ruined jacket, then tore off the charred sides without care.
As they left the ring, whispers followed.
"That was insane—"
"Did you see the light and shadow—?"
"They hate each other… or they're about to make out."
Back in the corridor, Alaric caught her wrist. "What was that?"
She yanked free. "A win."
"That wasn't just Umbra magic," he pressed. "I've seen hellfire before."
She met his eyes, unflinching. "Careful, Vale. Curiosity kills angels too. Now leave me the f**k alone."
For the rest of the morning, their paths kept crossing—in Potions, in Tactical Strategy, even in the library where she'd gone to hide. Every time, his gaze tracked her like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
By the time evening rolled in, she'd almost convinced herself she could ignore him. Almost.
Dinner was louder than the night before. Each House table buzzed with stories of the day's sparring matches. Seraphine sat at the end of Umbra's table, picking at a plate of spiced bread.
Across the hall, Alaric sat with Lux again. Isla perched far too close, laughing as her hand brushed his arm. Seraphine rolled her eyes.
A sudden crackle of magic at the far end of the hall snapped her attention. Vex rose from her shoulder, alert.
Two second-years from Ignis House were squaring off, fire already dancing between their palms. Before staff could intervene, the flames surged wild, uncontrolled—roaring straight toward the nearest table.
Toward Umbra.
Seraphine didn't hesitate. Shadows exploded from her in a wave, swallowing the fire before it reached her Housemates. Gasps filled the hall.
When the darkness faded, she stood with her sigil faintly glowing.
Alaric was already on his feet too, staring at her like she'd just rewritten the laws of magic.
Headmistress Eirenna's voice cut sharp through the silence. "Ms. Azariel. Mr. Vale. My office. Now. And the two nincompoops who decided the dining hall was a training yard."
Seraphine sighed. First day, and she was already in the Headmistress's crosshairs. Met three Lux students and almost killed one. Awesome.
As she and Alaric walked side by side toward the looming office door, he said quietly, "Looks like we've got a glitch in more than the dorm system."
She didn't answer. She was too busy wondering why, when she unleashed her power, his had flared in response—like they were two halves of the same storm.
Or like they were sharing power.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and sighed. She'd think about it later.
The two Ignis second-years, meanwhile, were marched off to the other Headmistress's office for punishment.