The day after her meeting with the headmistress and the sage, Mila returned to her class with a composed smile. Her Class F students greeted her with their usual warmth some waved, some shyly bowed.
"Good morning, Miss Mila!" a few called out as she entered the training yard.
"Good morning," she replied softly, clapping her hands once to get their attention. "Today, we'll focus on balance and endurance. Remember, magic is nothing without control."
She led the drills, her movements precise and fluid. Even as her students stumbled and gasped for breath, Mila showed no sign of fatigue. Her eyes, though bright and calm, hid a deep unease.
Every now and then, her gaze drifted toward the forest beyond the academy walls, the same forest she had unknowingly decimated nights ago.
(That wasn't… really me, right?) she thought. Her fingers trembled slightly before she clenched them into fists. (No… it was me. Arthianos… that name, that power it felt alive.)
"Miss Mila?" one of the students, a boy with silver-brown hair, called out timidly. "Are you okay? You're… kinda spacing out again."
Mila blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and forcing a smile. "I'm fine. Just thinking about… new exercises for you all. Now, ten more laps!"
Groans filled the air, and the students jogged off obediently.
Mila sighed quietly. "At least they're motivated," she muttered, then turned her gaze skyward. The clouds above were tinged with orange from the setting sun. "But I can't keep pretending nothing's wrong."
That night, she slipped out of her quarters once again. The moon was high, its glow silvering the empty training grounds. The gentle sound of waves in the distance mixed with the faint hum of her magic as she stood in the open field.
Mila took a deep breath and raised her right hand.
"Arthianos…" she whispered, feeling the familiar pulse of energy rising from deep within her. Her chest tightened, the heat of a thousand flames burning inside.
The air around her shimmered, and then
A massive dragon head of pure crimson energy began to form beside her, its eyes glowing like molten gold. Its roar echoed faintly, distorted by its unstable form.
Mila gritted her teeth, sweat running down her forehead. "No… not yet. You listen to me this time!"
The dragon head twitched, its mouth opening slightly. But before it could fully stabilize, the power flared uncontrollably. The crimson glow intensified then shattered into dust.
Mila fell to her knees, clutching her head. "Gah!!"
The pain seared through her skull like fire. Her vision blurred.
"Why…" she whispered, trembling. "Why can't I control it…?"
A soft breeze passed through, rustling her silver hair as she looked up at the faint glow of moonlight.
"…What are you, Arthianos?"
For a moment, she swore she heard a faint, distant growl like something ancient and patient waiting inside her.
Then silence.
Mila sat there for a long time, her golden eyes dimly reflecting the moon.
"Maybe…" she murmured weakly, "it's not the power that's unstable… maybe it's me."