KAEL'S POV
"WHAAAAAAT?"
Ryn's voice bounced off the dormitory walls with enough force that I half-expected the ceiling's gold-threaded casings to file a noise complaint.
He stood in the middle of the room, wearing what looked like sparring clothes; his hair was slightly dishevelled; one sleeve hung unevenly from his shoulder; and there was an expression on his face that could only be described as betrayal meeting disbelief and then deciding to become volume.
I sat on the edge of my bed.
Calmly.
Mostly.
"That noise level was louder than necessary," I said.
"No, no, no." Ryn raised both hands as if physically trying to stop the information from existing. "You don't get to say that. You don't get to calmly sit there after telling me Professor Scarred Menace-face dragged you into his office, took some random interest in you, invited you to some secret fancy elite elective thing, and then told you that actually to get in, you have to place in the top ten of an island exam that nobody has even officially announced yet."
Ryn took in a breath.
Then pointed at me.
"If anything, that deserves volume!"
I considered that, especially because I didn't tell Ryn about my multiple affinities and because Professor Orin might find out about it.
'I guess it does seem quite random.'
"Ok, some volume. Maybe."
"No. ALL of it."
"That's debatable."
"KAEL."
I sighed.
We had been in our dorm room for less than ten minutes, and in that time, Ryn had gone through four clear emotional phases. All of which were annoying, to say the least.
The first was suspicion, because I had apparently arrived at the door at the exact same time as him, which he immediately deemed strange.
'I mean that's just a coincidence, nothing I can do about that.'
Second was curiosity, because I had told him Professor Orin's meeting was "complicated."
'I mean, I wasn't lying; the whole meeting itself was complicated.'
Third was an alarm, because I explained that Professor Orin had developed a sudden interest in me.
'Ok, this one might be on me, but I can't just announce to Ryn out of nowhere that I actually can wield all affinities! I would be in an even worse situation compared to this. Just thinking of it is making me stressed out.'
And the fourth... well, whatever this was.
It was possibly a mental collapse.
Possibly an enlightenment.
Maybe it was a medical event that required an intervention.
At this point, I couldn't quite tell.
"You said," Ryn continued, tapping his left foot now, "that he wants you to get top ten."
"Yes."
"In the midterm exam."
"Yes."
"On an island."
"Yes."
"With every first-year student taking part."
"That is my understanding of it, yes."
"And there will be beasts."
"Most likely, yes."
"And other students can eliminate each other."
"Apparently so."
Ryn stopped pacing and stared at me.
"Dude. Are you even listening to yourself?!"
'Unfortunately, I am. That has been the main activity of my life since being reborn into this world.'
Ryn dragged both hands down his face.
"Why?" he demanded. "Why does this keep happening to you?"
I opened my mouth.
Then, closed it.
Ryn actually posed a fair question, one that would've been too hard for me to refute.
This issue is that any honest answer I give would have to, in some way and in some form, include the Codex, my past life, the fact that I was reborn into this world—his world —the horrors that I had seen in the Memory-Relic, and how I feel they relate to me. Not to mention the increasingly uncomfortable possibility that my existence was an otherworldly influence masked as a first-year magic high school student.
'What could I possibly say? It's an impossible situation.'
So instead, I said while shrugging, "Bad luck, I guess."
Ryn stared, dumbfounded.
"Bad luck?"
"Really consistent bad luck?"
"Bad luck? Bad luck? It would be more realistic to say that the universe was cursing you than just bad luck."
I blinked.
"Haha, that's oddly perceptive."
"What?"
"Nothing, I just thought of something funny."
"What? You think we have time for jokes??"
Ryn's expression darkened this time. "Start from the beginning. I want to hear everything."
So, I did.
Not the beginning beginning.
Nothing about the Codex.
Or that Professor Orin knew about my current dual affinities.
I didn't even mention the part where Professor Orin's Aether pressure had nearly caused my innerds to collapse there and then.
But I said just enough.
The office.
The invitation.
The exam.
The condition.
And the bet.
A FEW MOMENTS BEFORE, IN PROFESSOR ORIN'S OFFICE
Professor Orin stood beside that particular desk of his with his arms crossed, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just shattered my sense of secrecy in less than five minutes.
"You're certainly taking this better than I expected," he said.
"I'm not," I replied. "I'm simply faltering in silence."
His mouth twitched.
"Good. A quiet panic is more efficient than a loud one."
"I'm not sure that's the exact phrasing I'd use."
"It's the one I'm using, and this is my office."
I glanced toward the door.
"Should I be concerned about the fact that you know?"
"You should be concerned about many things," Orin said. "This one is more manageable than the others."
'That's not reassuring... at all."
He seemed to notice my slight worry.
Or perhaps he enjoyed not reassuring people.
"Relax, Young Arin. No one else knows. The observation arrays record more than students think, but less than administrators pretend. Your dual-affinity usage was clear enough to someone watching carefully. However, most weren't."
"And you were?"
"I was curious."
"That sounds dangerous. For me."
"It usually... is."
He walked toward his desk and picked up a thin folder.
It looked ordinary.
That made me distrust it immediately.
"You asked me why I want you in the Prestige Electives," he said. "The answer is simple. You're an interesting student."
"I don't believe that is a criterion."
"It is when I'm the one choosing."
"I thought you said the invitation wasn't final."
"It isn't."
He tossed a folder that contained a few sheets of paper onto the table between us.
The folder's cover bore the Academy's official seal. Below the seal, in clean black ink, said:
FIRST-YEAR PRESTIGE ELECTIVE CANDIDATE ALLOCATION.
I did not dare to touch it.
Professor Orin found my reaction faintly amusing.
"What?" he asked. "Afraid it'll bite?"
"... At this Academy? Anything is possible."
"Haha, yes, I guess that is fair.
He leaned back against the desk.
"I guess I should start to explain the situation you're in. You see, each first-year faculty member is allowed one recommendation, but mine usually goes unused."
I frowned in confusion. "Unused?"
"Yes. I don't care much for Academy pageantry. Prestige Electives, student council pipelines, noble networking disguised as academic enrichment…" He waved one hand loosely. "It may be important to some, but it's tedious to me."
"You said... usually."
"That's correct, because this year," he said, "I cared."
I don't like the sound of that.
"The problem," Professor Orin continued, "is that when I don't care, my slot is usually handed over to another professor to allocate."
"To whom?"
"Professor Anlor."
The name didn't mean anything to me.
My face must have clearly said so, because Professor Orin continued.
"He's the Professor who will be leading the Anti-Beast Tactics elective you'll be taking next term. He's polished, influential, and excellent at sounding reasonable while doing unreasonable things. Unfortunately, He had already selected someone."
I looked at the folder.
"Who?"
Professor Orin's smile sharpened.
"Darius Renora."
Now that name... did mean something.
The Heir of House Renora.
A House blessed with brilliant leyline engineers, or at least that's what Ryn told me. They're said to have pure and unstable Aether manipulation, if the rumours were even half true.
"So... one of the Ten Heirs," I said.
"Yes."
"And you decided to take a slot back from one of them."
"Yes."
"Specifically, after Darius had already been told he would be selected."
"Unofficially told," Professor Orin corrected.
"That doesn't sound like a meaningful distinction."
"It is very meaningful in bureaucracy."
"It sounds like a distinction invented by cowards."
Professor Orin's eyes lit faintly with approval.
"Good, good. You're learning."
I stared at him.
He continued as if this were all perfectly reasonable.
"Anlor was... well, unhappy to say the least. Renora's people would most definitely be unhappy, and the Academy would rather not offend a Great House unless absolutely necessary. So I offered a compromise."
'Oh, great. I already know I'm not going to like where this is going.'
"What compromise?" I asked with a disdainful face.
"What compromise? Why, a bet, Young Arin."
I closed my eyes.
"Of course."
'This goddamn professor just had to be a gambling maniac.'
"If you place within the top ten of the upcoming midterm examination, my selection will stand. You take the spot. If you fail, Anlor's additional candidate takes it."
I opened my eyes.
"Darius Renora."
"Yes."
"And Professor Anlor agreed to this?"
"Very quickly."
"Why?"
"Because he doesn't think you're anything worth noting."
The words should have annoyed me.
Instead, they settled somewhere colder.
Professor Orin watched my face.
"He called you an unusual commoner with inflated value due to randomly occurring events," he said. "His exact phrasing was longer and significantly less interesting."
"inflated value?"
"He said you've been involved in some visible situations, but he does not consider them to be directly linked to your ability, which he does not hold in high regard."
"Hm, I guess that's not an entirely irrational conclusion to make."
'Albeit it is a very irritating one.'
"No," Professor Orin agreed. "It isn't."
That surprised me enough to look up properly.
He held my gaze.
"You are not one of the Ten Heirs. You do not have a Great House's training lineage. You do not have years of specialised tutors, combat physicians, private core stabilisers, or ancestral spell vaults. You are bright, but one's brightness is not the same as one's ability to survive. You are talented, but even talent is common among the uncommon."
He stepped closer.
"So prove it. Prove you're worth more than just some random incident value."
The room went quiet.
I looked at the folder again.
"What did you put on the line?"
Professor Orin smiled.
Not warmly.
Not fully.
"Haha, something worth losing."
"That's not an answer."
"You're right," he said. "It isn't."