I didn't expect the dormitories to feel so… alive.
Back in John's world, university dorms were cramped, loud spaces that smelled of ramen and stress. But here…
Here, the corridors hummed with quiet magic.
Soft blue lights floated above each doorway like blinking eyes. The walls were carved with shifting runes, rearranging themselves as students passed, adjusting protections and permissions. It felt like walking through a living library of magic.
Tarek slapped my back hard enough to jolt my spine.
"Bro, look! Room 317. That's us!"
Us.
The word still felt foreign—like friendship was something I needed to relearn.
Tarek pushed open the door before I could respond. The room revealed itself with gentle glimmers of light: two beds, two desks, two wardrobes, all arranged neatly. A big window overlooked the training grounds where faint sparks still crackled from earlier practice sessions.
"It smells new," Tarek said, dropping his bag with dramatic flair. "You can take whichever bed you want. But I warn you, I snore like an angry dragon."
I raised an eyebrow. "…Is that supposed to be reassuring?"
He grinned. "Depends. Do you like dragons?"
I shook my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my mouth. Tarek was loud, chaotic, and clearly had the attention span of a squirrel—but there was something grounding about him. Something steady and warm. A good contrast to the uneasy flicker of Starborn Light in my chest.
I walked toward the bed near the window, pulling my small satchel open. The belongings inside were minimal: two spare academy robes, a simple mana quill, parchment, and a small carved pendant Mother had slipped in when she thought I wasn't looking.
"Nice," Tarek said, peering over my shoulder. "Your room back home must've looked like a scholar's den."
I swallowed.
Back home.
John Warner never had a home that felt like home. But Draven… Draven had parents who cared. A mother who cried at the gate. A father trying to act strong while his eyes shook.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "Something like that."
Tarek didn't seem to notice the heaviness in my voice. He was already unpacking—a ridiculous assortment of items spilling onto his bed: mismatched gauntlets, a hammer that was definitely not academy-approved, a jar of something purple and bubbling, clothes that looked partially burned, and… was that a chicken feather?
He held it up proudly.
"My good luck charm."
"…Why a chicken feather?"
"Because the chicken survived."
I stared. "The what?"
He coughed. "Anyway! Excited for affinity tests tomorrow?"
My stomach tightened. "Not really."
"What? Why not?"
Because I had no idea how to explain the sun flaring inside my ribs. Because if the tests detected the full truth, I wasn't sure I belonged here—anywhere. Because John Warner was nobody… and Draven Valehart was something I didn't understand.
"I'm just… unsure," I said instead.
Tarek plopped onto his bed. "Bro, everyone is unsure. Except the nobles. They pretend they're sure. Big difference."
I paused. "…You mean Kaelen."
He snorted so hard it almost made him choke. "That blonde peacock? Yeah, he walked into orientation like he owned the building."
"He acts like I'm some kind of disease."
"Jealousy," Tarek said immediately.
I blinked. "Jealous? Of what?"
Tarek crossed his arms, adopting a wise, philosophical pose he absolutely hadn't earned.
"Think about it. Guys like him? Everything's handed to them. Reputation, talent, legacy. Then someone like you shows up—mysterious, quiet, doesn't kiss his boots—and boom. His ego cracks."
"…That seems like a stretch."
"Nope. Trust me. I've studied human psychology."
"You failed basic etiquette."
"Unrelated."
I snorted, shaking my head.
For a moment, it felt normal—easy—even though I was living a second life built from ashes. But that peace shattered the moment I sat on my bed.
The moment my body touched the sheets…
A pulse echoed through me.
Thump.
Then again.
Thump.
The Starborn Light stirred like molten gold swirling beneath my skin. I sucked in a breath, gripping the mattress edge.
Not now.
Not in front of someone.
Not by accident.
"Hey," Tarek said softly. "You okay?"
I forced a nod. "Just… dizzy."
"First-day nerves. Happens to everyone."
He rummaged under his bed and pulled out two paper-wrapped pastries. "Here. Honeyrolls. My mom makes them for good luck."
My chest tightened again—but for a different reason this time.
"Thanks," I whispered.
We sat in silence, unwrapping the honeyrolls. They were sweet, warm, comforting—far better than the dry hospital food John Warner used to force down on rough days.
Tarek leaned back on his elbows. "So, Draven. Why'd you enroll in the academy? Big dreams? Destiny? Girls? Running from something?"
I froze.
He had no idea how close he'd hit.
"…I wanted a new life," I said carefully. "A life where I didn't feel… broken."
Tarek looked at me—really looked.
The humor slipped from his eyes, replaced by something surprisingly gentle.
"Then you came to the right place," he said. "This academy breaks everyone. Then puts them back together. Stronger."
I laughed softly. "That… doesn't sound comforting."
"Yeah, I realized that right after I said it."
The room dimmed as evening touched the sky. The floating lights at the doorway pulsed gently. Outside, the training grounds fell silent. Students moved through the hallways like quiet energy streams, settling into their new lives.
Tarek climbed into bed and stretched lazily. "Tomorrow's going to be brutal. You should sleep, bro."
"Yeah. I will."
He pulled his blanket up.
"Night, Draven."
"…Night."
The room went quiet.
The kind of quiet that invites thoughts you don't want.
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. The moon outside cast pale silver across my blanket. My heartbeat steadied. My breathing slowed.
And then—
Light.
Blinding, warm, blooming beneath my sternum.
I gasped, gripping my chest.
The Starborn Light roared silently through my veins like a star waking from hibernation. A glow pushed against my skin—trying to leak out, to escape, to announce itself to the world.
Control… control… just breathe…
I curled my fingers into the sheets, fighting to contain it. My pulse thrummed with heat. Symbols—cosmic, ancient—flickered at the edge of my vision.
Not now.
Not here.
Not in front of someone.
My chest burned—
then cooled.
Slowly.
Gradually.
Until the light dimmed, retreating like a wave caught by gravity.
I exhaled shakily.
Tarek's breathing was deep and steady. He hadn't noticed.
Good.
Because I wasn't ready for anyone to know what I truly was.
In this quiet room, under moonlight and uncertainty, one truth crashed into me—
Tomorrow's affinity test might reveal everything.
And if it did…
My second life could end before it even begins.