The academy was alive with movement, its usual rhythm replaced by a chaotic excitement. Students hurried from one end of the campus to the other, carrying supplies, scribbling on parchments, or arguing over last-minute changes to their presentations. The grand courtyard at the heart of the academy began to transform, with banners and decorations slowly filling the space.
Kalem stood on a ladder near the west wing, hammering a metal frame into place. The structure would eventually hold a large display featuring the interplay of materials and elemental magic—a collaboration between his division and Nara's. Despite their frequent disagreements, Kalem couldn't deny the results of their work had been impressive, even if Nara had melted a few test pieces along the way.
"That's looking sturdy," Jhaeros said, appearing below. His feline grace made his approach almost silent.
Kalem looked down, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "It better be. If this thing collapses, it'll take half the courtyard display with it."
Jhaeros chuckled. "High stakes, as always." He leaned casually against a post, watching Kalem work. "You've been busy."
"That's an understatement." Kalem adjusted a bolt and climbed down, brushing metal filings off his hands. "What about you? How's the Beast Dance coming along?"
Jhaeros' expression softened, a mixture of pride and responsibility flickering in his golden eyes. "It's… coming together. The Ilvaar see festivals like this as more than just celebration. They're a chance to bridge gaps, to foster peace between races and communities."
"Peace?" Kalem asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jhaeros nodded. "In Ilvaar culture, festivals were often held after conflicts, as a way to rebuild trust. But there's always an undercurrent of tension. Not everyone is eager to let go of old grudges."
Kalem thought about the divisions in the academy—how students often stayed within their own groups, rarely venturing beyond their comfort zones. "I can see that. Everyone's so focused on their own work, it's easy to forget we're all part of the same academy."
"Exactly." Jhaeros' tone was firm, but his expression softened as he added, "This festival could be an opportunity to change that. Or… it could make things worse."
Later that day, Kalem met up with Lyra and Nara in the alchemy lab, where Lyra was coordinating potion preparations for the festival. The room was a chaotic blend of bubbling cauldrons, colorful vials, and students arguing over ingredients.
"How do you even work in this mess?" Kalem asked, dodging a student rushing past with a tray of glowing herbs.
"It's called organized chaos," Lyra said without looking up, her hands deftly measuring out powder into a flask. "You'd hate it."
"She's not wrong," Nara added with a smirk, leaning against a table. "Kalem probably has nightmares about uneven measurements."
Kalem ignored her and turned to Lyra. "Jhaeros mentioned something interesting earlier. He said festivals like this are supposed to bring people together, but they can also stir up old tensions. Makes me wonder if this one will do more harm than good."
Lyra glanced at him, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "He's got a point. Look around—everyone's so caught up in their own divisions, it's like a competition instead of a collaboration."
"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Nara interjected. "Competition pushes people to do their best. Besides, a little rivalry never hurt anyone."
Kalem crossed his arms. "Until it turns into something worse."
The room fell quiet for a moment, the bubbling of potions and the murmurs of other students filling the silence.
"Well," Lyra finally said, "if tensions do rise, at least we'll have front-row seats to the drama."
Kalem sighed, shaking his head.
As the day wore on, Kalem found himself back in the workshop, tinkering with the final touches on his gauntlet. His project for the crafting competition had become a point of pride, and he was determined to make it stand out.
Just as he finished tightening the last joint, Jhaeros entered, his movements as silent as ever.
"Still at it?" Jhaeros asked, his gaze flickering to the gauntlet.
"Always," Kalem replied, holding up the gauntlet to inspect it. The segmented design gleamed in the workshop's light, the intricate channels for elemental magic glowing faintly.
Jhaeros stepped closer, his feline eyes narrowing with interest. "That's impressive. Let me guess—this is for the festival?"
Kalem nodded. "The crafting competition. I figured I might as well go all in."
Jhaeros studied the gauntlet for a moment before asking, "Do you ever take a break?"
Kalem smirked. "Not if I can help it."
"Figures." Jhaeros leaned against a nearby table, his tail swishing lazily. "You know, for someone who claims not to care about recognition, you put a lot of effort into standing out."
Kalem shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I guess I just like the challenge."
"Fair enough," Jhaeros said, his tone light but his gaze thoughtful. "Just don't forget—this festival isn't just about showing off. It's about connecting with others. Even someone as stubborn as you could use that."
Kalem didn't respond, but Jhaeros' words lingered as he returned to his work.
By the time the sun set, the academy's preparations were in full swing. The grand courtyard shimmered with lights, and the faint hum of magic filled the air as students tested their displays.
As Kalem walked back to his dorm, he passed groups of students from different divisions, each immersed in their own plans. For a moment, he wondered if the festival could truly bring them together—or if the cracks between them would only grow deeper.
Either way, one thing was certain: the days ahead would be anything but dull.