Morning in the capital was loud, too loud for my taste. Between the clanging of market stalls opening and the obnoxious chirping of birds, I considered going back to sleep and pretending the academy didn't exist. But fate—and a very punctual roommate—had other plans.
"You're going to be late," he said, already dressed in our academy uniform. His hair was combed to military perfection. A model student. A walking sigh.
I groaned and rolled over. "Great. Then I won't have to learn how to accidentally freeze someone."
Somehow, I got ready and made it in time, only half-wishing for a small blizzard to cancel the first class. But of course, the weather was perfect. The kind of day that screams, No excuses.
We were escorted to the elemental training grounds, a massive open-air coliseum with sections divided by elemental affinity. A floating crystal pulsed overhead, glowing in shifting hues that matched the elements: blue for water and ice, red for fire, green for earth, yellow for lightning, and so on. It was all very dramatic.
"Students, step forward to your elemental zones," a voice boomed.
I moved toward the ice section, trying not to trip on my own robes. There were only a few of us—blessed are the rare, I guess. Or cursed. Hard to tell.
Our instructor was a tall, slender woman with skin pale as frost and eyes like frozen glass. She didn't look like she had a sense of humor. Perfect.
"I am Instructor Sayuri," she said. "I will not tolerate excuses. I will not accept laziness. If you are here, then prove you belong."
Straight to the point. My kind of lady.
We started with a basic mana shaping exercise: forming a small shard of ice from ambient moisture. Most of us managed a pathetic sliver, but I conjured something with actual edges. Still tiny, but solid.
Sayuri's cold gaze paused on me for half a second. I wasn't sure if she was impressed or about to declare me a failure in five different languages.
"Better than expected," she muttered. "Barely."
Hey, I'll take it.
The session escalated with paired sparring. No actual combat—just mana shaping under pressure. I got stuck with a guy who clearly had no idea what he was doing. Either that, or he thought controlling ice meant waving your hands around dramatically.
"Try focusing," I said. "And less interpretive dance."
"You think you're better than me?" he snapped.
"Not really. I know I'm better than you. It's comforting."
Sayuri barked an order and we resumed.
Then came him.
Kaito. Red cloak, perfect stance, fire affinity. Smirk like he invented magic himself. You know the type.
He didn't speak at first. Just walked past me like I was air.
"Must be tough," I said aloud. "Carrying that massive ego without a cart."
He turned, eyes narrowing. "You'll regret that when we spar."
"Will I, though?"
Our instructor, perhaps sensing the tension, paired us up. Of course she did.
The moment our manas clashed, the air chilled and sparked. His flames met my ice with a hiss, steam clouding our vision. I deflected a fire pulse with a jagged shield of frost.
"You're not bad," Kaito said through clenched teeth.
"Thanks. You're exactly as overrated as I expected."
We were stopped before it got out of hand. Both of us were breathing hard. Sayuri looked between us with the expression of someone forced to babysit two particularly annoying dragon whelps.
"Reckless," she said. "But… competent."
That was the closest thing to a compliment I'd heard since arrival.
After training, I found myself walking toward the lecture hall for our next session—Theory of Mana Beasts and Contractual Magic. Sounds thrilling, right?
The instructor here was Professor Genzai, a hunched man with eyes too sharp for his age. He shuffled to the front of the class like a turtle preparing for war.
"Listen well," he croaked. "There are creatures in this world older than your ancestors, stronger than your bravado, and smarter than most of you combined. We call them mana beasts."
I leaned back. Finally, something interesting.
Genzai explained the basics: beasts categorized from F to S, with the mythical SS-rank being so rare they were practically legends. Contracting with one wasn't a matter of will—it was about resonance. Mana capacity. Worthiness.
He showed us a rune-inscribed circle used in low-level contract rituals.
"Only those deemed 'fit' by the beast itself can form a bond. Forcing it ends… badly."
A few students exchanged nervous glances.
"As first-years, you'll soon be allowed to witness minor contract rites. But don't get cocky. Even an E-rank can kill if provoked."
I wasn't sure whether to be terrified or excited.
Later that day, while exploring the academy grounds, I wandered into an overgrown courtyard. Vines snaked over crumbling statues, and mana crystals glimmered faintly along the walls. At its center stood a stone obelisk, ancient and humming with faint energy.
I reached out instinctively and touched the surface.
For a moment—just a moment—my mana pulsed violently, reacting to something deep within the stone.
Then silence.
Nothing happened. The energy vanished as quickly as it flared.
I blinked, shook my hand, and muttered, "Weird."
Maybe it was just old mana. Or maybe the obelisk didn't like sarcasm.
As I walked back to the dorms, my mind wandered.
To Kaito's smug face. To Sayuri's cold approval. To the beast contract rituals.
And, unexpectedly… to her.
Akari. Red hair like a dying sunset. Eyes that burned.
She hadn't shown up again today. But I knew we'd meet again.
Flame and frost. Opposites attract—or destroy each other.
Either way, it was going to be fun.
---