The sound of the immense oak doors swinging open was the closest thing to divine absolution. A tide of students spilled outward, struck by the night breeze that swept away the accumulated heat, leaving behind the taste of dust, the stench of nerves, and the mockery that had permeated the air. The courtyard was bathed in the light of the twin moons, and the fresh air filled Veridia and Nalia's lungs, cleansing the lingering boredom from hours of speeches.
"Pfuuuah..."
The sound came from deep within Veridia's chest as she stretched her arms until her back popped with a concerning crack.
"I thought it would never end," Veridia groaned, her shoulders sagging with an exaggerated sigh as she dragged her feet as if carrying the weight of the entire building. "How many ways are there to say 'the future is bright' without actually saying anything at all?"
Beside her, Nalia adjusted her glasses. Her posture remained impeccably straight, but there was a shadow of fatigue under her eyes that even she couldn't hide.
"The Vice-Principal specializes in time manipulation; I have no doubt," Nalia sighed. "He turned five minutes of closing remarks into five hours of agony. And all because 'that man' had an important matter to attend to."
Veridia let out a tired giggle, shaking her head.
"I still can't believe his nerve, escaping in the middle of the distribution."
Nalia closed her eyes for a second, the scene etched into her memory with the precision of a recording spell: the latest and most blatant proof of Ryumu Ren's philosophy...
◆◆◆
The young Director, reclined in his chair as if he were in his own living room, caught his gold coin in the air with a dry click.
I think I've seen the best of this event, he thought to himself. Besides, Mochi must be hungry.
He stood up, stretching shamelessly in front of a thousand people. He turned to the figure seated to his right: Vice-Principal Archibald Muredius, a living caricature of antiquity with a beard so long it served as a scarf.
"I'll leave it to you, Archie," Ren said, clapping the old man on the shoulder and raising a cloud of dust.
Archibald blinked, slow as a tortoise waking from hibernation.
"Eh...? Is it... is it already the w-war against the... goblins?" he asked in a trembling voice.
"No, the war against boredom. And you're going to lead it." Ren winked at the petrified audience with a smile that dripped with insulting charisma. "Finish the event. I have... urgent administrative matters."
"Matters...?" It took Archibald five seconds to process the word. "Ah! Bureaucracy! Yes, yes! Duty calls!"
"Exactly. Duty."
Ren stepped down from the stage with his hands in his pockets, whistling softly, leaving behind the most important event of the year without looking back once.
◆◆◆
What followed was medieval torture. Archibald took the microphone, coughed for two entire minutes, and then unfurled a parchment that seemed endless to read about "Mana Ethics" at the speed of a lazy snail.
"He's a genius and a scoundrel," Veridia declared back in the present, shaking her head to clear the memory of Archibald's monotonous voice and Ryumu's escape.
She clutched the old grimoire against her chest; the leather felt abnormally warm, as if it housed a beating heart within, and a faint, barely perceptible hum made her fingers vibrate.
For someone like Ryumu, finding an anomaly in a sea of model students must have exceeded his annual interest quota, Nalia thought privately, glancing at the old book Veridia was hugging. The rest, including the public humiliation, were just irrelevant statistics. He is efficient. And despicable.
"He's eccentric, no one denies that," Nalia said aloud. "But at least you got something interesting. That book..."
Nalia looked at the grimoire with a mix of curiosity and caution, her tone indicating she had been the only one in the hall to see the truth behind the Director's farce.
"Be careful, Veri. It rejected Ryumu. That grimoire... it seems alive."
"I know, Mom," Veridia joked, feeling her fatigue give way to nervous electricity. She couldn't wait any longer. Curiosity was burning her hands. "I'm going to my room. I need to... 'sleep'."
Nalia looked at her suspiciously.
"You're not going to sleep. You're going to open that," she sighed, giving in. "Just... try not to blow up the West Wing, okay?"
"No promises!" Veridia shouted, already running toward the dormitory hallway, her cape billowing behind her.
◆◆◆
The door shut. Veridia dropped her backpack to the floor. There was no room for doubt now. With fingers that barely trembled, she locked the door to drown out the murmurs from the hallway. Suddenly, only the pulse of her own blood and the anomalous weight of the grimoire existed. The room looked different under the mantle of the night. The light of the moons poured through the window, turning the lapis lazuli walls into an abyss of blue shadows and silver. The silence was dense, almost solid, broken only by the creak of the wood beneath her nervous feet.
Veridia placed the book in the center, where the beam of moonlight traced a perfect circle on the floorboards. The grimoire's leather was unnaturally hot to the touch, vibrating and pulsing against her fingertips with a low hum, as if she were holding the heart of a feverish beast instead of paper and ink.
The air in the room seemed to thicken, heavy with the dust of centuries and a bittersweet promise. On the sill, the twin moons watched like a pale eye through the glass.
"Well," she whispered, sliding a finger over the rusted lock. "Let's see what kind of familiar this old grimoire is hiding."
It didn't require complex chants or chalk circles. The moment her fingers brushed the rusted metal clasp, the book seemed to respond to her anxiety and burst open.
What happened next wasn't magic; it was an eruption.
A pillar of golden light exploded, instantly vaporizing the moisture in the air. The shockwave rattled the windowpanes to the breaking point. But after the heat came the cold. From the center of that light, a silhouette formed. It wasn't a mere tiger; it was a living winter. The temperature in the room plummeted, frosting the glass. Its fur was molten silver, emanating a heavy white mist that crawled across the floor, freezing the carpet fibers on contact. The air now smelled of a high-mountain storm: pure ozone, ice, and danger.
BOOOOOOM!
A dull, deep, and terrifying tremor shook the foundations of Zenith Academy. More than an earthquake, it was a shockwave of pure mana that ignored the stone and struck directly at the bones.
The pressure swept across the campus like a gale. The massive stained-glass windows of the Grand Hall sang with a high-pitched screech, vibrating on the edge of shattering. In the dormitories, the air became so charged with static that the hair on every sleeping student stood violently on end, pulling them from their dreams with a sensation of freefall.
In absolute contrast to the chaos, silence reigned in the highest tower of the academy.
Ryumu Ren smiled. He was leaning against the railing, piercing the seal of his juice box with a slow, bored movement while his eyes remained fixed on the moons. The shockwave hit the tower, but Ren didn't budge.
"Jooo... what an impatient girl," he murmured, sipping noisily. "I knew she wouldn't be able to wait until tomorrow. Seems she woke the beast ahead of schedule. What a racket."
He snapped his fingers, and a subtle barrier of silence enveloped the source of the tremor.
"Play your cards right, kid. Because now, all the eyes that matter will be on you."
◆◆◆
Back in the room, Veridia stood up unsteadily from the floor, her ears ringing. From the center of the light, particles of stardust materialized into a silhouette that occupied nearly all the available space.
"For heaven's sake!" Veridia exclaimed, coughing from the pressure.
She had dreamed of a cat, an owl, perhaps a small rodent. What appeared was a monumental tiger. Its fur was liquid mercury, shining like polished steel under the moon's glow. Its muscles, powerful and defined, tensed under skin that looked like living metal armor. From its powerful shoulders emerged majestic wings, a dark membrane studded with specks that sparkled like tiny stars. Its eyes were two suns of molten amber burning with primary intelligence.
"E-erm..." she stammered. "Of... of course, it's a dream, I fell asleep and..."
The creature looked through her. The weight of its gaze grounded her; she wasn't dreaming.
A human?
The voice echoed in her mind, deep and disappointed. Before she could respond, a silver light enveloped it, and its form collapsed. In a blink, the monster was gone. In its place stood a tall man with silver hair and a black imperial-cut robe. His posture was arrogant, stoic.
"Are you some kind of demon?" Veridia asked, stepping forward. "Or... a shapeshifter?"
He didn't answer. He raised a hand, and the air began to vibrate—a dark hum that threatened to tear reality apart.
"Wait! You can't leave!" Veridia shouted. "If you go, I'll lose my chance to become a Magic Knight!"
However, the vibration died down. The magic dissolved like smoke. The man's body tensed violently, and a dark stain began to spread across his impeccable robe, right over his stomach. The pain was absolute, but he refused to scream, clenching his teeth to show no weakness before an inferior being.
He fell to one knee. He looked up at Veridia. His golden eyes were no longer indifferent; now they were calculating.
My mana, he analyzed internally, noticing how the pain receded slightly by being near her. She acts as an anchor. If I move away from this human, entropy will consume me.
"So you're staying?" she asked.
He stood up with a titanic effort, masked by pure willpower.
"Hmph. I will stay for a while. Your existence now has a utility: to sustain mine. You will serve as my anchor and be my vassal."
"Vassal?" Veridia frowned. "But I—"
"I am not negotiating. I am informing you of your new place in the world. Accept it."
Veridia swallowed hard, remembering her decision not to bow down, but aware she had no alternative.
"Haaaaaah... I accept... for now," she muttered.
Without another word, he sat on the windowsill, turning his back to her to watch the moon. Veridia tried to protest, to ask for his name, but exhaustion hit her hard. She collapsed onto the bed, and darkness claimed her instantly.
◆◆◆
Veridia blinked, waking up with a dry mouth. And then she saw him. At her window, bathed in the morning light. He was still there, like a statue of marble and silver that had guarded her sleep.
TOC, TOC, TOC!
"Veridia!" Nalia's voice rang out from the hallway. "Open up immediately! I've been calling you for five minutes!"
Veridia froze. There was a man in her room. In the girls' wing. In the morning.
If Nalia walked in and saw a grown man looking out her window, the scandal would be legendary. Her social, academic, and moral life would be over.
"You!" she whispered frantically, eyes wide, jumping out of bed and pointing at the wardrobe. "Hide! Quick! They can't see you!"
He turned his head slowly from the window, looking at her, clearly annoyed by the noise. He didn't even move. He crossed one leg over the other with an elegance that was irritating given the circumstances.
"Hide?" his icy voice resonated. "I will not hide from humans."
"What are you talking about?!" she hissed, trying to push him (to no success; it was like pushing a mountain) toward the wardrobe. "You're a walking scandal! This is the girls' wing! If they see me with a man, my life is over!"
He remained immovable, his silhouette outlined against the morning light, looking at her with cold indifference toward her human social norms.
"Open the door," he ordered calmly, turning his gaze back to the garden, bored. "Deal with it. You are my vassal, aren't you? Dealing with local nuisances is your job."
Nalia cast a spell on the doorknob, which began to turn. Veridia covered her face with her hands, unable to watch the impending catastrophe.
This is the end! It's all over because of this arrogant fool! she screamed in her mind, bracing for the shrieks of scandal.
The door burst open.
"Finally!" Nalia exclaimed, stepping in firmly, her uniform impeccable. "Do you plan on sleeping all day? We have five minutes to get to the testing grounds for the Familiar Exam! If we're late, the Vice-Principal will make us write an apology essay of at least seven thousand nine hundred and sixty-four words!"
Veridia opened one eye, her heart in her throat. Nalia was standing in the middle of the room. And she was looking toward the window. Looking directly at the "walking scandal."
Veridia held her breath, waiting for the scream, the scandal, the end of the world.
But Nalia didn't scream. Nalia... smiled?
"Well..." she softened her tone, adjusting her glasses and approaching the window. "So this is the reason for your heavy sleep."
Veridia turned slowly, fearing what she would see.
The man with silver hair and black robes had disappeared.
On the sill, bathed in sunlight, a silver lynx with golden eyes sat with a regal posture, watching the garden with the same boredom as his human form. No smoke, no flashes. He had changed so quickly and subtly that it seemed he had always been a lynx.
"It's an Astral Lynx, if I'm not mistaken," Nalia said, adjusting her glasses with admiration, though her eyes narrowed for an instant, as if perceiving something more in this overly imperturbable feline. "A high-level summons. And he's beautiful. Well done, Veri."
Veridia released the air in her lungs, feeling her knees go weak with relief. He had decided to change form at the last microsecond, likely because he considered it beneath him to be seen by another human student or simply to avoid the hassle of human reactions.
"Yes..." she said weakly. "A lynx. His name is... his name is..."
Veridia's mind went blank. Fluffy... no. Snowball... no. She was about to make something up.
The lynx on the sill didn't move, but his voice echoed in her mind with certain irritation:
Save the invention. My name is Kaelen.
Veridia blinked, shaken by the telepathic intrusion.
"His name is Kaelen," she blurted out.
Nalia nodded, but her gaze didn't leave the feline.
"Kaelen..." Nalia repeated, as if tasting the name. Her eyes flashed behind her glasses. "An... interesting name for a lynx. Well, take your lynx and let's go. The exam starts now."
Veridia approached the window, reaching out her arms to pick up the lynx, relieved.
"Come, Kaelen. We have to go."
The lynx looked at her with those ancient eyes. He didn't move toward her hands. Instead, he stood up, stretched with lazy elegance, and jumped to the floor, deliberately dodging her embrace.
He walked toward the door with his tail held high, not deigning to look at her.
Do not touch me, his cold voice echoed in Veridia's mind. I have legs. And the only arrogant fool here is you.
Veridia sighed, watching her "familiar" walk into the hallway as if he owned the academy, with Nalia following hurriedly.
"This is going to be a very long day," she muttered, running after them as the morning sun promised an exam that would undoubtedly be anything but ordinary.