Jenny's Request
A few days had passed since the afternoon at the swimming pool. Marion had hoped the memory of Xin in her swimsuit—of her tears—would fade.
It didn't.
Again and again, the image returned to him. And with it, the fear that she might appear at any moment.
That day, he stayed behind in the classroom after lessons, hurriedly stuffing his things into his bag. Then he heard Jenny's voice behind him.
"Marion. Wait."
He flinched. Slowly, he turned around. Jenny stood in the doorway, arms crossed—but without her usual smug grin. She looked… serious. Almost embarrassed.
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Uh… sure."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "It's about Xin."
Marion's heart skipped. Again…
"You know her, right?" Jenny looked at him directly.
He swallowed. "Yeah… sort of."
Jenny nodded. "I've been talking to her. She told me things." She hesitated, searching for words. "Her whole family was killed. By villagers. They murdered them because they stole livestock. Can you imagine that?"
Marion felt his throat go dry.
Imagine it? He couldn't imagine it.
He could only remember how that goblin girl had suddenly appeared in his life—with that strange intensity in her eyes. The way she followed him. The way she spoke to him as if everything were perfectly normal.
He didn't understand it. He only knew one thing:
She was there.
Again and again.
And she was dangerous.
"Marion?" Jenny's voice pulled him back.
He forced a weak nod. "Yeah… maybe."
"And now she's living on the street," Jenny continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Between all those filthy beastfolk in the dirt. No roof, no nothing. Even the swimsuit she wore at the pool? Stolen. The money for the tickets too. She steals because she has nothing."
Marion felt his stomach twist.
"She's such a sweet girl," Jenny said, almost pleading. "I don't want her to end up… you know… selling herself just to survive. That happens in this city. You know it as well as I do."
Marion stared at her.
Jenny—the girl who usually hid behind makeup and sharp comments—was standing in front of him, speaking about Xin with genuine warmth.
"So…" Jenny drew a deep breath. "You're friends with her, right? Will you help me help her? Please."
Marion opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
How am I supposed to tell you that Xin isn't just some poor girl—that she's a goblin, and you only see the human shape?
"Marion?" Jenny's eyes were steady.
He nodded weakly, almost automatically. "Yeah… I'll… help."
Relief washed over her face. "Thank you." She briefly touched his arm, then turned and disappeared down the hallway.
Marion remained where he was, frozen.
Now I'm trapped.
A Seat at the Table
The courtyard of the academy lay bathed in warm afternoon light. Students sat in groups, laughing, practicing small spells, playing cards lazily in the shade.
Marion just wanted to go straight to the dormitory—head down, invisible as always.
But then he stopped short.
Under one of the chestnut trees sat Tamara, Jenny—and Xin.
The three of them were deep in conversation. Jenny giggled. Tamara spoke thoughtfully. Xin held her hands over a small stone. Her blue hair shimmered in the light, her eyes fixed on the stone as if she could pierce it with her gaze.
And then—
A faint flicker.
A spark.
Small, but unmistakable.
Marion froze.
No. No, that can't be.
"Marion!" Tamara's voice snapped him out of it. She had spotted him and waved him over.
Reluctantly—almost stumbling—he walked toward them. Jenny grinned as if she knew a secret. Xin simply nodded at him, as if his presence were the most natural thing in the world.
"Look," Tamara said, almost proudly. "Xin is incredibly gifted. She just cast a spell—without any training."
Marion opened his mouth, but no words came.
"I think," Tamara continued, "she has what it takes to join the academy. Maybe not immediately—but with some practice? Definitely. The talent is there."
Jenny nodded eagerly. "Yes! She's really smart. She learns fast. Not what you'd expect if you… well… consider where she comes from."
Xin smiled shyly, almost childlike. "Was easy," she murmured. "You just have to feel it. And not think too much."
Marion felt his stomach tighten.
She has no idea. None of them have any idea.
"We have to get her off the streets," Tamara said firmly. "She can't keep living in the dirt with those beastfolk. She's human—and humans don't belong in the dirt."
She looked at Marion seriously. "Don't you think it would be right to help her find a place here?"
Marion looked from one to the other—Tamara with her sincere conviction, Jenny with shining eyes, Xin with that innocent, naïve smile.
His heart pounded.
How am I supposed to tell you she isn't just a poor girl—but—
He swallowed.
"Yes," he heard himself say, barely above a whisper.
"Maybe."
The Test
Word spread quickly: at Tamara's insistence, Xin was allowed to take an unofficial entrance test at the academy.
The great hall was packed—curious students, murmuring teachers, assistants whispering to one another. Marion stood between Tobia and Manuel, who were nervously snickering about the "new recruit."
Xin stepped barefoot into the center of the room. Her blue hair shimmered under the high windows. Her posture was uncertain—but her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"Let us begin with the basics," said the examining magister, an older man with a gray beard. "Produce a simple flame."
Xin raised one finger and concentrated.
A faint crackle—
Then nothing.
No spark. No light. Just a shy smile.
A few students giggled. Rico's voice carried faintly from the side. "Wow. Impressive."
The magister frowned. "Hm. Apparently no aptitude for fire. Try something else."
Xin nodded obediently and lifted her hand again.
This time, darkness gathered around her fingers.
A distant cracking sound filled the air. Then a black bolt shot from her fingertip.
It struck the stone block placed as a target—
And in the next second, the block was simply… gone.
Not shattered.
Not cracked.
Gone.
A murmur rippled through the hall.
The magister stepped back, eyes wide. "That is…"
"Again!" Jenny called excitedly, clapping her hands.
Xin grinned broadly, almost childlike, and let the shadows crawl once more over her palms. She drew them together, shaping a pulsing sphere of darkness.
A chill swept through the hall.
Candles flickered violently.
Even the sunlight streaming through the windows seemed to dim for a heartbeat.
"Incredible…" someone whispered.
"That is advanced shadow and void magic," the magister said quietly, awe—and fear—mingling in his voice. "Very few can wield such power. And certainly not at this level."
Excited whispers filled the air. Some students looked pale. Others stared in reverence.
Finally, the headmaster himself was summoned.
A gaunt man with deep lines in his face and a heavy mantle draped over his shoulders entered the hall. His eyes were clear, sharp, seasoned by decades of experience.
"Let me see," he said simply.
He lifted a crystal and placed it in Xin's hands. "Focus. Let us measure your potential."
Xin looked at him briefly, puzzled—then wrapped both hands around the crystal.
A low, deep rumble filled the chamber.
The crystal began to glow.
Faintly at first.
Then brighter.
Brighter still—
Until it shone almost blindingly.
The headmaster's eyes widened. "This is… extraordinary."
He lowered the crystal carefully, as though it might shatter. "Such potential… perhaps one in a million. A true prodigy."
He regarded Xin intently. "Why were you overlooked? Why are you not already enrolled at an academy?"
Jenny and Tamara eagerly told her story—about her lost family, her time on the streets, her struggle to survive.
The headmaster listened gravely. "Unacceptable. A waste of talent like this would be a tragedy."
He turned to the faculty. "We will support her. A full scholarship. This gift must not be squandered."
Applause broke out.
Students clapped. Teachers nodded.
Jenny beamed. Tamara squeezed Xin's hand.
Only Marion stood frozen, heart heavy, face pale.
A prodigy?
Or a disaster no one sees coming?
A New Place
A few days later, it was official.
Xin was now a student of the academy.
The rumor of the "scholarship prodigy" spread like wildfire. Some whispered in awe. Others in jealousy. Many simply stared when she entered a room.
That morning, the class teacher presented her at the front.
"This is Xin. She will join your class as of today. She has demonstrated extraordinary ability. I expect you to support her."
Some nodded. Others simply stared.
Rico gave a low whistle as she took her seat.
Jenny had already cleared the spot beside her and pulled Xin down with a bright smile. "Sit here. It's the best place."
From the back row, Marion watched. His heart beat unevenly.
Now she truly belongs here.
The whispering began almost immediately.
Lukas leaned toward Basti, both grinning widely.
"No parents, no home, nothing at all—and now she gets a scholarship? That's ridiculous."
"Yeah," Basti snickered. "Maybe one of us should adopt her."
Their familiar "höhöhö" laughter spread through the room.
Some students looked away. Others smirked.
Xin blinked.
She glanced at Jenny, then back at the boys.
For a moment, she seemed to consider something.
Then she began laughing too.
Loud.
Bright.
Almost exaggerated.
Lukas and Basti froze.
"Uh… what…?"
Xin clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Funny! Very funny! Höhöhö!" She tried to imitate their exact tone, even slapped the desk for emphasis.
The class fell silent.
A few students grinned uncertainly. Others watched Lukas and Basti expectantly.
"Are you mocking us?" Lukas narrowed his eyes.
"No," Xin answered honestly, looking confused. "I wanted to laugh with you. You laughed. That's what you do, right?"
Basti flushed red. "We were making fun of you, don't you get that?"
Xin tilted her head, still smiling. "No. But laughing is nice. So I join."
For a second, silence hung heavy.
Then Rico burst out laughing. "Hahahaha! She wrecked you—and not even on purpose!"
The room erupted.
This time, the laughter was directed at Lukas and Basti.
The two exchanged offended looks and sank into their seats.
Jenny slipped an arm around Xin's shoulders and whispered, "You didn't do anything wrong. Some boys are just idiots."
Xin nodded seriously. She didn't quite understand why Jenny's voice was so gentle—but she let it happen.
She smiled—innocent, as if the world were merely a game whose rules she had yet to learn.
And Marion, in the last row, buried his face in his hands.
Jenny has no idea what she's pulling herself into.