Another Magic Day dawned.
Breakfast was oatmeal with buttered peas—mediocre at best.
The sky hung gray and heavy as Elina found Sophia and dragged her to class early.
Most freshmen, still buzzing from the novelty of their new environment, slept in. The classroom stood nearly empty. Elina claimed the prime spot—third row, slightly left of center—then spotted the two boys from yesterday stepping inside. Decent guys, she thought. The tall one's even kinda handsome.
She waved them over, gesturing to the seats behind her.
"You're early. Rare for freshmen," Elina remarked.
"Lanen hauled me out of bed," Hale admitted. "Said fresh air and quieter breakfasts were worth it. He wasn't wrong—good food beats extra sleep."
"Too bad the food's mid," Lanen muttered.
"Too bad the food's mid," the trio chorused, then burst into laughter.
Morning Grind
The morning slipped away in a blur.
Etiquette & Humanities came first, followed by Magical History. For upperclassmen, these were light reviews; for freshmen like Lanen, Hale, and Sophia, they meant frantic note-taking.
As tradition dictated, both teachers opened with grandiose claims about their subject's importance. The etiquette professor insisted that grace and cultural literacy were social lifelines. The history teacher declared ignorance of the past as shameful as "a Dark Age peasant who's never seen a mirror."
Elina, a top student, had her own agenda.
By retaking courses, she aimed to solidify her knowledge, graduate early, and advance to intermediate studies. With my aptitude, time's on my side, she reassured herself.
Turning to the boys, she grinned. "Lunch together?"
They agreed readily.
The New Squad
Yesterday's Arcana Day had left Lanen drained—he'd secured a job, made friends, and endured back-to-back classes. By nightfall, he'd collapsed into bed without even meditating.
Now, like their peers, the four had organically formed a clique. Group activities were all the rage among freshmen, whether dining or attending lectures. From afar, the sea of dun-gray pointed hats resembled migrating fungi.
Lunch sealed the deal. Over mediocre cafeteria fare, their camaraderie crystallized—unwittingly joining the trend.
Defensive Magic: Not What It Seems
That afternoon's mood mirrored the overcast sky—subdued, much like their instructor.
Professor Blake was a rigid figure swathed in black—robe, gloves, boots, even his pointed hat and spectacles. At first mention of "Defensive Magic," Lanen had imagined something akin to "Dark Arts Defense."
But a quick skim of Elina's old notes and the textbook clarified: this was essentially magical self-help—safety guidelines and basic counterspells.
"...Defensive Magic, under the right conditions, can be an excellent offensive tool—particularly against practitioners of ancient magic..."
"But never forget our core tenet: Avoid danger whenever possible. Repeat after me."
"Avoid danger whenever possible."
"Louder!"
"AVOID DANGER WHENEVER POSSIBLE!!" Lanen bellowed with the class, suddenly finding academia thrilling.
"Though this course's exams are simple and its credit value low, take it seriously. First, these skills remain useful post-graduation. Second, failing any subject bars you from advancement."
"Now, let's examine basic counters to archaic elemental spells. Turn to the next section..."
Elina seemed especially engaged, whispering answers to Blake's questions but never raising her hand.
"Why not volunteer?" Hale murmured.
"I've already taken this. Showing off would be tacky—especially since the faculty know me," she whispered back. Sophia stifled a giggle beside her.
A collective groan erupted when Blake announced that practical exercises would begin only in six months. The textbook's structure, he explained, ignored the reality that first-years were magically destitute.
"Alternatively, it's just outdated. Youth magic pedagogy keeps evolving, but defensive studies stagnate due to low demand and ceiling."
"Yet stagnation here implies rigor. That this text remains unchanged for decades proves its value. Respect it."
"Decades? Yikes," Hale muttered to Lanen.
Evening Partings
Dinner—beetroot patties and cheesy pasta—was passable, served with mugs of fermented bread juice.
"Study session after this?" Elina asked.
"Hale can join you. I've got my first library shift tonight," Lanen said. "Every other evening—tomorrow's free."
"Ooh, handy," Sophia piped up, waving her fork. "Save me the good books!"
"Deal. Just give me titles ahead of time."
Bidding them farewell, Lanen stepped into the gauzy twilight alone.