The dormitory halls of Merlin's Academy held an energy unlike anything Juka had ever known. The boys' wing was a blend of structured chaos, full of students unpacking, boasting, and already plotting their first bouts of mischief. Juka, however, kept to himself, navigating the corridors until he found his assigned bunk.
Lucien was already there, sitting on the lower bunk with an air of smug satisfaction. He barely glanced up as Juka entered, offering only a dry, "Figures I'd get stuck with you."
Juka smirked, throwing his bag onto the upper bunk. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual."
Lucien scoffed but said nothing more. The tension between them had been present since the entrance exam—an unspoken rivalry neither cared to address but both fully acknowledged. Juka could already tell this arrangement wasn't going to be easy.
Around them, other students settled in. Some were already making allies, forming groups, laughing about their experiences earlier that day. Juka only half-listened, his thoughts elsewhere. He had made a bold choice during the entrance exam, revealing himself as a Storm Mage candidate. The weight of that decision pressed against his chest, heavier now that the day had calmed.
Night fell quickly, and the dorm grew quiet. Juka lay awake, staring at the wooden ceiling, feeling the exhaustion of the day finally creeping in—until a knock came at the door. The room stirred slightly, but no one moved to answer it.
Then, the door creaked open, and a voice, authoritative and unmistakable, called into the room. "Juka. Come with me."
Headmistress Louise Jaeger stood in the doorway, her presence enough to make Juka's stomach twist. She wasn't merely his headmistress—she was his aunt, his first teacher, and someone who had known him all his life. But in this moment, she wore none of those familiar roles. She was the head of Merlin's Academy, and she had come for him in the dead of night.
Juka climbed down from his bunk, feeling Lucien's eyes on him as he followed Louise out into the cool night air.
On the other side of the academy, the girls' dormitory had settled into a far different kind of atmosphere. Carmen sat on her bed, brushing out her hair, while Annethornes sprawled across the mattress beside her, arms stretched out like she owned the place.
"So," Annethornes said with a lazy grin, "are you gonna pretend all year that you don't have a thing for Juka? Or are you actually going to do something about it?"
Carmen tensed, nearly dropping her brush. "I don't—!" She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. "It's not like that."
Annethornes hummed knowingly. "Right. Of course not. Just like how I don't love flying and wind magic isn't my entire personality."
Carmen rolled her eyes, setting her brush down. "You're impossible."
"I know," Annethornes said, grinning. "And that's why you like me. But honestly, Carmen, you should at least admit to yourself that you care. It's exhausting watching you dance around it."
Carmen pursed her lips but said nothing. She wasn't ready to unpack all that—especially not tonight. Instead, she changed the subject, and soon they were lost in conversation about their classes and expectations for the semester. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and they fell asleep to the quiet hum of the academy's protective wards.
Juka followed Louise to a small clearing near the dorms, one that reminded him too much of where they used to train back in Stonehenge. But this wasn't the same place. That clearing—his true training ground—was miles away, tucked into a past that felt distant now.
Louise came to a stop, folding her arms. "You made quite the statement during the entrance exam."
Juka looked away, suddenly unsure. "It wasn't planned."
"But it was a choice," she said, her voice measured. "You know what that means, don't you?"
He swallowed. He knew exactly what it meant. By revealing himself, he had painted a target on his back. He had declared to the academy, to the world, that he was a Storm Mage candidate. And there was no taking that back.
"I thought it would be different," he admitted. "I thought—if I just did my best, if I showed them who I was, it would mean something. But now..."
Louise studied him, the strictness in her gaze softening just slightly. She sighed, stepping closer. "Sit."
Juka hesitated before obeying, sitting on the grass. Louise followed, her demeanor shifting from headmistress to something more familiar. "Forget about me as your headmistress for a moment," she said. "Talk to me as you would before. When it was just you and me training."
Juka clenched his fists. "I don't know if I did the right thing."
Louise was quiet for a long moment. Then, she reached over, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "Doubt isn't a sign of weakness, Juka. It means you understand the weight of your choices."
He let out a slow breath. "And what if I regret it?"
She smiled slightly. "Then you figure out why. And you decide what you'll do with that regret."
The night air was cool against his skin, the academy silent around them. Juka closed his eyes, letting himself sit in that moment—not as a student, not as a Storm Mage candidate, but just as himself.
For now, that was enough.
Daybreak came too fast for Juka's liking. The chill of the night still clung to his skin as he dragged himself from bed, barely sparing a glance at Lucien, who had already begun dressing with that same air of superiority he always carried.
"Late start for the great Storm Mage?" Lucien drawled without looking at him.
Juka rolled his shoulders, unwilling to rise to the bait. "Some of us actually need sleep."
Lucien scoffed, pulling on his boots. "Or maybe some of us just aren't cut out for the pressure."
Juka exhaled through his nose. It was too early for this. Instead of answering, he climbed down from his bunk and focused on getting ready. Other students moved around the dormitory, their chatter blending into a dull hum as they prepared for their first real day at Merlin's Academy.
The morning routine was straightforward: breakfast in the grand hall, followed by orientation for new students. Juka barely registered the words of the instructors as they droned on about rules and schedules. His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Louise. The doubt still gnawed at him, but her words lingered as well.
You figure out why. And you decide what you'll do with that regret.
Easier said than done.
Across the hall, Carmen caught his eye. She was seated beside Annethornes, who was leaning in to whisper something, likely another teasing remark. Carmen rolled her eyes but didn't seem entirely displeased. When her gaze met Juka's, she held it for a moment before looking away, focusing intently on her plate. Juka frowned slightly but didn't dwell on it.
Classes began soon after. The first years were divided into groups based on their magical affinities and academic strengths. Juka found himself among students who, like him, had shown exceptional skill in their entrance exams. It was a mix of nobility and commoners, though the lines between them were more rigid than they liked to admit.
The first lesson of the day was elemental theory, a subject Juka had already studied under Louise. He kept quiet as the instructor—an older mage with an impressive aura—went over the fundamentals. But even as he listened, he could feel the weight of the unspoken conversations around him.
Storm Mage candidate.
The words weren't spoken aloud, but they didn't have to be. He could see it in the way some students eyed him, the way they whispered when they thought he wasn't paying attention. He had set himself apart before he even had a chance to prove himself.
By midday, the pressure was suffocating. Juka kept his head down, pushing through lessons, training exercises, and the ever-present scrutiny. When lunch came, he slipped away from the main hall, finding solace in one of the quieter courtyards. The academy was vast, and while most students gravitated toward the more social areas, he preferred the silence.
But he wasn't alone for long.
"You always run off when things get overwhelming?"
Juka sighed, recognizing the voice before he turned. Annethornes stood nearby, arms crossed, her ever-present grin softer than usual. Unlike Carmen, who could be guarded, Annethornes had an ease about her that made it difficult to push away.
"Not running," Juka said. "Just… thinking."
Annethornes hummed, stepping closer. "Thinking's dangerous. You might start doubting yourself."
Juka gave a half-smirk. "Already there."
She tilted her head, studying him. "You made a choice, Juka. A big one. And yeah, people are watching. But that's the thing about being in the spotlight—whether you like it or not, you have the chance to show them exactly who you are."
He let out a breath, letting her words settle. Maybe she was right. Maybe, instead of second-guessing himself, he needed to focus on what came next.
Annethornes gave him a light nudge. "Come on. Carmen's waiting, and I'd rather not listen to her pretend she doesn't care about you."
Juka rolled his eyes but followed. The academy loomed ahead, full of challenges and expectations. But for now, at least, he wasn't facing it alone.
On his way to the Study Hall he bumped into a dwarf who, quite frankly was carrying way too much and couldn't really see over all his materials for his Blacksmithing class. Juka stepped back quickly, eyes widening as he barely avoided colliding with the dwarf. The dwarf, however, didn't seem to notice, his attention fixed on the clutter of tools, books, and materials he was struggling to balance.
"Whoa, easy there," Juka muttered, reaching out instinctively to help steady the pile. The dwarf gave a gruff huff, barely acknowledging Juka's presence as he shifted his load.
"Don't worry about it, lad. I've got it," the dwarf grumbled, but Juka wasn't convinced. He stepped forward, carefully adjusting the stack.
"You sure? Looks like you might be about to topple over with that," Juka said, peering at the precariously stacked items.
"Ah, I'm a master of balance," the dwarf replied, grinning as he awkwardly shifted a large hammer to one hand, trying to free up the other to steady a few of the books. "Wallow's the name, smithing's my game. You new around here?"
"Juka," he replied, a small smile creeping up at Wallow's attempt to act casual despite clearly struggling. "Yeah, I'm new. First day, actually."
"First day?" Wallow's eyes lit up, and he immediately shifted the pile again, now making less of an effort to act like he was okay. "Well, come on, then, let's get you situated. You've gotta see the smithing class if you're gonna be around."
"I didn't know we had smithing classes," Juka said, eyeing the various tools and materials. "Seems a bit... intense."
"Ha, you have no idea," Wallow said, chuckling as he started walking, motioning for Juka to follow. "You might think we're just hitting metal with hammers all day, but there's finesse to it. The real magic happens when you bring fire and metal together. Kinda like a storm mage, eh?"
Juka raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "You're comparing blacksmithing to being a Storm Mage?"
Wallow gave him a sideways look, clearly amused. "You've got fire and earth inside you, right? You're not just throwing around lightning bolts. You're molding power, shaping it into something. That's the smith's way."
Juka was silent for a moment, mulling over the comparison. It was an odd way to think about his magic, but somehow it fit. The storm within him wasn't just chaos—it was a tool to be honed.
"Well, I guess that's one way of looking at it," Juka finally said.
"You'll get it once you're in the forge. If you ever get the time, come by. I'll show you how it's done." Wallow's grin widened, and Juka couldn't help but feel the warmth of his enthusiasm.
As they made their way to the smithing area, Juka felt a strange sense of comfort in the company of the dwarf. Maybe, just maybe, this place wouldn't be so bad after all.