Chapter:7
Aflety Magic Academy—where nobles and prodigies sharpened their strength—was already beginning to show its fangs.
Evan stood at the edge of the eastern courtyard. Morning dew glistened across enchanted vines and stonework etched with runes. It was quiet, save for the rustling breeze and the soft flapping of his cloak.
His Basilisk—a small serpent with sleek black scales and glimmering wing stubs—lay coiled around his wrist like an accessory. Few knew what it truly was, and Evan intended to keep it that way.
"Still hiding, little one?" Evan whispered.
The Basilisk flicked its tongue but made no sound.
He liked it that way.
⸻
Settling into dorm life had not been as difficult as Evan had feared. The Academy assigned him a corner room in the East Wing—a place mostly occupied by nobles from mid to high-tier houses. Despite being the heir of the Rochel Dukedom, Evan kept a low profile, much to the confusion of others.
His roommate was an unexpected companion: a boy with a lion's tail, golden eyes, and an easy smile.
"You snore like a dragon in hibernation," the boy joked one morning.
Evan raised a brow. "And you talk in your sleep about roasted rabbits, Lyonel."
Lyonel Firemane—half-beastman, half-human—was a cheerful contrast to Evan's quiet demeanor. A cousin to the minor noble family of House Firemane, Lyonel was here more for connections than power. Still, he had potential… and secrets, Evan could tell.
"I heard Silva Elowen beat two seniors in spell dueling," Lyonel said as they walked to class.
"I'm not surprised," Evan replied. "She's from the Elowen Elven Circle. Wind and Nature mages. Known for speed and control."
"And Gareth Ironfang?" Lyonel asked.
Evan paused. "Strong. But his temper is his weakness."
Lyonel grinned. "You really do study people like chess pieces."
Evan didn't deny it.
⸻
Morning lectures. Elemental Theory. Beast Taming Basics. Afternoons filled with physical conditioning, mana control exercises, and magical combat classes. Nights were reserved for study, or in Evan's case, training and bonding with his Divine Beast.
In a class taught by Professor Linara of the Ice Court—a vampire noble and expert in elemental convergence—they learned of the Twelve Elemental Types:
1. Nature
2. Water
3. Fire
4. Wind
5. Time
6. Darkness
7. Light
8. Ice
9. Earth
10. Space
11. Belt (Mystic, control-oriented magic connecting physical and astral bodies)
12. Metal
Evan excelled in Darkness and Water theory, unsurprisingly—elements of his Basilisk. But he showed startling aptitude in Time, a rare and difficult path.
—————
And then… she arrived.
The door to the classroom opened mid-lecture.
"I apologize for being late," came the voice—smooth as velvet, laced with grace.
Lilith Laistrygones entered the room, her long silver hair flowing, crimson eyes glowing faintly. Dressed in the colors of House Laistrygones—black and crimson—she carried the elegance of nobility, and the menace of a vampire's lineage.
Several students whispered. A few stared.
But her eyes found only one seat.
Next to Evan.
She walked toward him without hesitation, and sat. Evan stiffened. The scent of blood roses and cold air clung to her.
"I've heard about you," she said softly, smiling. "My future husband."
Evan turned slowly. "You must be mistaken."
"No," she said. "You just haven't accepted it yet."
The room froze. Gareth coughed. Silva narrowed her eyes.
Lilith leaned slightly closer. "Don't worry. I won't bite. Unless you want me to."
Evan looked away. She's dangerous… but not in the way people think.
⸻
Later that night, Evan visited the secluded back garden behind the Academy's western wall—a place he discovered by accident. Few students came here. It was perfect for meditation.
He sat cross-legged on the stone bench, watching the moon rise. The Basilisk slithered onto his shoulder, eyes gleaming faintly.
"I know something's coming," Evan murmured.
The wind shifted.
Behind him, a shadow moved. A masked figure—draped in black feathers, face hidden behind a silver-beaked mask—emerged from the trees. Silent. Unnatural.
Evan stood slowly.
"You don't belong here," he said.
The masked figure tilted its head. "Neither do you, Basilisk Tamer."
The Basilisk hissed, its eyes glowing.
The masked figure raised a gloved hand, revealing a black sigil—an avian crest surrounded by runes.
"You've been marked," the figure whispered. "The Black Nest watches."
Before Evan could react, the shadow dissolved into feathers—vanishing without a trace.
Chapter End
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